


Not My Time

by a_dangerous_sociopath



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Consent Issues, M/M, some things that may squick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-23 18:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_dangerous_sociopath/pseuds/a_dangerous_sociopath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony wakes up one day to find himself spirited away by the evil deity Loki, but being at the villain's mercy turns out to be a lot less exciting than it sounds. He finds other things to occupy his time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a WIP I've been working on intermittently for about two or three weeks now. I started it as kind of a really lazy writing exercise, but now that I'm about 20,000 words in I've realized I may be in a bit over my head...
> 
> So, it being a WIP I may come and go and change things at random. I'll try to get an update in every few days, depending on how much I feel like editing or what I have time for, etc.
> 
> If you want to see my other fics, I have a master post with a list of a solid majority of my fics at http://sonic-butterfly.livejournal.com/328160.html and I can be found on deviantArt at http://hellscomingwithme.deviantart.com
> 
> also if you want to see me constantly post bullshit all day I'm at http://a-dangerous-sociopath.tumblr.com Who knows I may even use to to post fic updates you'll NEVER know

Tony wasn’t entirely sure how it happened. Lying on the floor flat on his back with what felt like a massive hangover wasn’t something that he’d done… Lately. He was actually starting to get better about that.

So what happened last night?

He squeezes his eyes closed, racking his memory the events of the night before… He hadn’t planned anything terribly complicated… Eat dinner at home, and watch a few movies with Pep…

Oh.

_Oh._

Last night had not gone well. He was still technically off-duty, had been restricted from any and all Avengers related activities until his injuries from the last super-powered villain brawl healed. He’d taken a good bump on the head, and had been ordered to rest, under the threat that if he didn’t Steve was going to come and sit on him until he was better, and that had been enough to get him to agree. Not that he listened to Steve much on principal, but the fact that if you didn’t he’d give you that look and he’d use that tone that told you just how disappointed he was and Tony just could not deal with it. It was like when you disappointed your grandmother, Tony suspected, because Tony never actually met his grandmother, but he could imagine the disappointed look on her kindly, but gnarled old face after eating a cookie that she’d been saving for Christmas. Or something. Tony couldn’t really call his family life ‘normal’.

But he was getting off track here.

The point is Pepper had come over to keep him company and somehow that had evolved into a serious discussion about how Tony took too many risks with his own safety, and Tony replied that, naw, he’d only been hurt like five times this year, to which Pepper logically pointed out that it was only May, and Tony argued that that was pretty good considering that there was 365 days in a year and he’d only been hurt on five of those days so far.

Sometime after that Pepper broke up with him. Which, he knew was fine, because she deserved so much better than him, and the poor girl’s heart could only take so much. All things considered, it ended fairly amicably; she cried a little, and maybe he did too, not that he’d ever admit it. Then they ate dinner and watched a movie from opposite ends of the couch.

He’s not sure what happened after that. Pepper saw herself out, and Tony thinks he had just enough energy to crawl into bed.

How he ended up on the floor after that was a mystery, and one he had the feeling was a particularly urgent one that needed tackling immediately. He moves to drag his hands down, from where they’ve been lying easily above his head… Only to realize that he can’t.

He finally dares open his eyes, to take in his surroundings. After the initial pain of morning sunlight stabbing into his corneas, he blinks it off, raising his head to look.

His hands are bound tightly with a thick rope, lashing them tightly to one of the legs of a bed, which Tony recognizes immediately is not his own. In fact, as he looks around, he realizes that none of this furniture is his, hell, this isn’t even the room he slept in last night. Everything in his home was sleek and modern, this place… Well. This place was a one-room log cabin, complete with, oh god, an actual ice box and wood burning stove. It was like whoever had taken him had realized that to leave Tony Stark alone with anything remotely resembling modern technology would soon come to regret it, which, yeah, was a smart fear to have. Tony hated those horseshit iPods, but given enough time he was almost positive he could jury-rig one into a usable taser.

But, this place didn’t even seem to have any kind of security system in place to ensure that he stayed here, hell, there wasn’t even a lock on the door, from what he could see. It ought to be simple to get out of here and get to a phone, all he really had to do was nudge that wooden leg of the bed up just a little bit and edge the ropes down under it. Then he could get those ropes off and run, and find out where he was, or at the very least find a phone so that he could call someone for help.

He only managed to get the bed somewhat off the floor when someone straddled his chest, pressing him back into the floor and effectively immobilized, he was so startled he dropped the bed leg and looked up into the face of his captor… A man he honesty hadn’t ever expected to see again anytime soon, if ever.

“Loki…” Tony gasps out, as he attempted to squirm out from underneath the other man.

Loki gives him a look of indifference, before reaching out with both hands and ripping open the front of his shirt. This causes Tony to yelp, to try and struggle away from Loki and his powerful hands, but he’s trapped and caught up by the rope and for a man who looked so slender Loki could damn well be the heaviest thing he’d ever tried to move without the armor.

But before he could work himself up too much, the other man leaned forward, tapping the arc reactor with his unusually long nails. Tony froze up at that, and with good reason thank you very much.

Loki glanced from the arc reactor up to Tony, locking eyes with his prisoner.

“This device.” Loki begins, as he begins to trace the edges of it with a sharp, black nail, letting it scrape along his skin just hard enough to send Tony into a mild panic. “This is what you used to block my magic the first time.”

It’s in no way posed as a question. Shit.

“What are you doing here, Loki?” Tony asked, because he damn well knew better than to dignify that last question with an answer. “Last I checked you were back in Asgard getting your lashes from Daddy.”

Loki doesn’t look the slightest bit unnerved, or angry, or anything, still tracing the sides of the arc reactor.

“Do not attempt to deflect me, Stark, or I’ll rip the whole thing out from your chest. Now tell me; what purpose does it serve?”

Shit. Shit. Shit. This was so not good. Suddenly Tony’s seeing his life flash before his eyes as he struggles to formulate a response that doesn’t completely give him away when Loki starts to force a nail between the arc reactor’s casing and his skin and Tony can’t stop the shout before he’s had time to think about it.

“It keeps me alive!” He shouts, before sinking miserably back into the wooden floor. “There are... There’s a cluster of metal shards in my chest, making their way towards my heart. This keeps them from gutting me.”

“Thank you for your honesty.” Loki finally says, apparently satisfied that Tony wasn’t lying. Tony breathes a little easier, though he can’t quite force himself to take his eyes off of Loki’s hands, which disconcertingly had not yet strayed from his chest. “Of course, you do realize that I can’t allow you to keep it…”

Tony’s eyes go wide as Loki’s hands scrabble for the locking mechanism, and well, that’s it, isn’t it? He was dead. And all he can do to prevent it was to thrash mindlessly against the other man, who didn’t so much as flinch as he easily rode out Stark’s tantrum, unscrewing the arc reactor and disconnecting the wire that kept it connected. Tony begins to crash immediately, his pulse goes haywire and pain flares in his chest as he swears that he can actually _feel_ the shards moving towards his heart again.

Loki sits back on his haunches, the arc reactor cradled in his hands as he examines it. He barely bothers to spare a glance to Stark, who was only fucking dying between his legs.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” Loki chides, tossing the arc reactor aside like it wasn’t the most important invention he’d created in his entire career. Tony growls.

“You just tore my heart out!!” he shouts, because really, and he cannot stress this enough, he is going to die now.

Loki looks entirely unconcerned about all this, and really, why should he be? Maybe that was the point to all this. Maybe he’d kidnapped him in order to kill him in the most painful way possible, and hell, wouldn’t it just be his luck that despite every precaution he’d taken to prevent this kind of bullshit, that Loki would be the one to get past every last one of his defenses and destroy him in the most intimate way he could imagine?

But Loki just rolls his eyes, and sticks his hand inside the arc reactor’s now empty casing.

“You should try and relax, Stark, because this is going to hurt.” Loki says, and that’s all the warning he gets before his world erupts into flame, and can’t stop himself from screaming, as his senses overload one by one. His limbs, his mind, his goddamn sense of taste for fucks sake, all of it implodes and tears him apart, and then, just as suddenly as it began, everything comes back together, stitched together atom by atom, and all of it, every organ, every fiber of his being comes back down and under Loki’s control. Loki leans over; inspecting him as though curiously and Tony can’t take it anymore. His energy drained he slumps back to the floor and mercifully falls into a deep swoon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony learns more about why he was taken; Loki is a giant douchenozzle.

Tony wakes up later, not tied to the bed post on the floor this time, but on it. He was lying twisted, as though Loki had lifted him from the floor and tossed him carelessly onto the bed, which was probably exactly what had happened. It wasn’t really the most comfortable bed he’d slept on (hell, was this straw?) but it was still better than Afghanistan so he had to give it that. He still felt pain, but it was muted, easier to bear than it had been when he had passed out before. The shrapnel in his chest no longer felt like it was moving, and since he no longer felt like he was dying, it awoke his curiosity.

It doesn’t take him long, in this cramped space to find Loki. The man’s seated at the table, eating an apple, flipping through the pages of a book as he scans its contents. He seemed of all things peaceful, unguarded, as though he hasn’t just kidnapped a man and ripped out the device that keeps him alive. Tony forces himself to sit up; wincing as his body heavily protests the movements.

He raises a shaking hand to his chest, pressing his fingers into the still empty casing. He frowns, pulling his hand away. By now, Loki had finally deigned to pay attention to him, watching the man carefully from his seat, half eaten apple held in one hand.

Tony growls as he places his feet on the floor. He doesn’t move any further than that- he can’t, he doesn’t quite have the energy to. “What have you done to me?” He asks, his voice low, and vibrating with a barely restrained menace.

Loki is not impressed. He takes another bite of his apple, slowly, clearly putting on a show.

“I am keeping you alive with my magic.” He explains simply.

Tony blinks, gaping at the other man.

“Yeah, you know, funny thing about that. I actually invented the arc reactor so that whole magic thing you’re doing? Completely unnecessary. You could have just left the damn thing in there.”

Loki gives him a smirk, and if Tony had had the energy, he’d have been more than happy to wipe that smug look right off of him.

“I needed it, for my own purposes.” Loki replies, thumbing nonchalantly through his book, before he finally closes it. He leans back in his seat. “Don’t worry. My magic will sustain you until I no longer have need of it. Or you.” He says a bit ominously. Tony shivers at the man’s tone.

“What the hell. Loki, why are you doing this?” Tony asks, looking to the other man. “Why me? What’s the point?”

Loki stares at the other man for a moment, as though deciding whether or not to answer.

“Well now, Stark, here’s your opportunity to flex that genius of yours. What do you think I could do with an object like that?”

Tony suddenly feels very, very uneasy.  He takes a deep breath. “That depends on what you want it for. With the right know-how, it could be used for any number of things.”

Loki nods. “I found its power intriguing. So I’m using it to create a trap.” Loki tells him, tapping the table. Tony stares at him.

“You’re trapping someone?” Tony asks, his brain working through the implications of this. “Let me guess, the Chitauri aren’t happy with your performance from last year?” He asks.

Loki shrugs lightly. “Among other things.”

“Among other… Thor. You’re trying to trap Thor.” Tony leans forward, rubbing his forehead, feeling a sudden migraine coming on. “And let me guess? I’m the bait.”

Loki grins sharply. “Clever human. I knew you could do it.”

“Don’t make me throw a shoe at you.” Tony replies sourly. He leans back into the bed, looking around the small cabin.

“Nice lodgings by the way.”

Loki smiles at Tony. “I put it together myself.”

“Uh-huh. Last time I saw half of this shit, it was in a museum, collecting dust. You know, like you ought to be.”

“Is that so?” Loki says calmly, giving Tony a shit-eating grin. “I get the feeling you are irritated with me?”

“Well, you can’t exactly blame me for being a little put-out.” Tony seethes venomously.

“Indeed I cannot.” Loki replies, picking up the book he’d been reading and placing it on a nearby shelf. He browses through his small collection there, before picking out another one, and moving back towards his seat.

Silence reigned between the two of them for a few moments longer, Loki apparently content to say nothing, and Tony bored as hell already. Tony hadn’t even been there a full 24 hours (he thinks he hasn’t been gone a day, at any rate,) and he was already restless. This was going to be torture.

Just to hear something besides this gut wrenching silence, Tony speaks up again.

“So, if I wanna take a piss, where do I go? In the corner, there?” Tony asks just to be obstinate.

“Urinate anywhere in my home and I will rend you.” Loki warns. He relents though, pointing to the door.  “There’s an outhouse not far from the road, and a river beyond that, to wash up.”

Tony glances at Loki. “And you trust me to go out there unattended?” He asks disbelievingly.

“Not in the least. But you can only go so far anyways. The spell I cast on you is tied to this house. Stray too far from the perimeter I’ve set up, and you will once again fall victim to the metal shards in your chest.” Loki explains.

Tony heaves a sigh, running his hands through his hair. “And what if I decided that I didn’t believe you, and just walked on down that road right now?” He asks.

Loki shrugs. “It’s your funeral.” He says carelessly. Bastard!

Tony rolls his eyes and heads outside. He can’t get a very good look at anything just yet, as it’s become dark out, but with the light of the cabin’s open door he’s able to spot the dirt road, and beyond that, the outhouse. Using the outhouse was just about as pleasant as one could expect it to be, and he’s quite grateful to find the river after. After washing up as best as he can he returns to the cabin. Loki’s sitting on the bed, dressed in only his tunic and a pair of loose fitting pants. Out of his armor, Loki looks even more slender and unassuming, and that just pisses Tony off even more. Tony walks over to the bed, grabbing the pillow and the blanket and tugging them from their place. Loki watches, amused.

“And what are we planning on doing with that?” Loki asks.

“Oh, you know. I figured that it’s a nice night out, relatively warm. Thought I’d sleep out under the stars.” He explains, as he folds the material under his arms.

“And you’re taking my blanket and pillow for this?” Loki asks. “What do you expect me to do?” Loki muses, though he doesn’t sound the least bit annoyed by any of this. Tony stares.

There had been no discussion of any kind of sleeping arrangement, and the cabin only had one bed. If there was one thing Tony was sure of, it was that he had absolutely no intention of sleeping next to Loki. No way would he be able to sleep with him in that same room, or beside him, or sleeping on the floor next to the man’s bed like a dog. All of those options just infuriated him.

“I expect you to kiss my ass.” Tony replies without a beat, as he pushes the door to step outside.

Tony finds a soft patch of grass just outside the cabin, where he places the blanket on the ground. He then lies down on top of it, with the pillow tucked under his head. The blanket is thankfully big enough that he’s able to wrap himself up in it completely, covering his head and feet and tucking the blanket around him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that if you feel the need to contact me, I can be reached always at:
> 
> a-dangerous-sociopath.tumblr.com
> 
> hellscomingwithme.deviantart.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony begins to explore his new surroundings. Loki remains a douchenozzle.

Tony woke up the next morning back inside the small cabin. He was on top of the bed, alone, and Tony could hear the crackling of a log inside the ancient, wood burning stove in the corner. Whatever the god’s plans for him were, freezing to death in the cold apparently wasn’t on the agenda.

Tony gets up, deciding that the best course of action for right now was to take stock of what he had at his disposal. Loki had apparently left him a wicker basket full of apples on the table. He entertained the notion that they’d be poisoned, like in Snow White, but he figured that if Loki had gone through the trouble of keeping him warm, then they likely were safe. Maybe. Loki didn’t seem to be a fan of plans that actually made sense.

Tony grabs one of the bright red apples on top, takes a healthy bite out of it without anymore hesitation, and since he hadn’t immediately choked or swooned or anything like that, he decided they were at least edible and proceed to feed himself while he checked out the rest of the cabin. He wanted to get a good idea about what kind of resources were at his disposal.

He pulled dishes and cookware from a few cabinets, a few utensils, and some provisions from the ice box (bread and jerky, along with some salt and pepper). He dug out several spare changes of clothes from the drawers that were too tall and slim for him. Fortunately, he also found a needle and thread that would help him to rectify that. He stomped around on the floorboard for a bit, until he found one that was loose. He peeled it up, and found a store of both hunting and cooking knives, which Loki clearly hadn’t wanted him to find. With a smirk, Tony grabbed the hunting knife and slid it into his belt.

After setting everything he’d found out on the table, he decided to head outside. He wanted to get a feel for the terrain he’d be living in for who knows how long, and most especially, to test his boundaries. If Loki thought that Tony was going to be a good little captive and stay put, he really had another thing coming.

The cabin, now that he can see a little better, is situated in the middle of a heavily wooded area. It certainly didn’t have the look of an area that had seen much in the way of human interaction. The trees were covered in moss, had very thick branches, with leaves that were such a deep green they were almost a dark blue in some patches. There was a lot of grass, weighed down by thick droplets of morning dew. It was the kind of place that he thought would have made a beautiful place for a vacation, one of those bonding with nature deals that he had never been into himself. Naturally, the first thing he does is head down that little dirt road he’d asked Loki about the night before. He doesn’t get very far, about thirty three yards from the cabin when he began to feel a pressure in his chest, as though there was an invisible thread that attached to his heart through his chest, connecting him to the house. The more he pulled against it, the more it hurt, so he finally gave up. He found a rock that was large enough that he could see it from a distance, and set it up on the edge of this invisible boundary as a marker. He then repeated this action going around the house, and quickly discovered that the perimeter was very uneven. In some areas it was thirty yards. In others, like the river, it was fifty, just enough room for him to cross to the other side of the river bank and walk around some.

Mapping out the space that Loki had allotted for him kept him busy, making him feel like he was doing something, rather than just moping around like a damsel in distress while he waited for Thor to rescue him.

Sometime after Tony returned to the cabin for lunch, (which consisted of the worst sandwich he’d ever had, stale bread and salty jerky did not make for a good time,) he decided to head back outside. He took the hunting knife and decided, out of pure boredom, to see how much luck he’d have at throwing it. It turned out, not much. It wasn’t very aerodynamic to begin with, and he didn’t have Natasha’s talent for these things, even though she’d tried to teach him a time or two. He’d been far too distracted by the woman’s curves to concentrate too hard. To be fair, he never actually envisioned himself in this scenario, where he’d be completely and utterly cut off from civilization, and reliant on these cave man’s weapons. Hell, in a real pinch, and if he was feeling particularly desperate, he could even manipulate his arc reactor into a weapon. It would possibly be the last thing he ever did, but it would be something.

After finally sinking the blade into the tree trunk a few times, Tony noticed how late it was getting. It was starting to become dark, and though he hadn’t seen much in the way of wildlife so far, he could damn well hear it, and that was marginally eerie. If he was going to have to camp outside again, he wanted to at least be within touching distance of the cabin.

He went inside and took a seat on the bed so that he was facing the door, hunting knife by his side, chewing on a piece of jerky by itself, (the bread was so dry he felt no reason to suffer through it again,) and waited. When he hears the door slowly beginning to scrape against the wooden floor, Tony doesn’t quite think his next action through. All he knows is that he’s tired, hurting, and angry, and this smug motherfucker son of a bitch is looking way too unruffled for his tastes.  When Loki finally opened the door, entering the cabin, Tony picked up the knife and threw it at the other man’s skull. It missed wide, by a more than a few feet, but he hadn’t actually expected to hit the other man anyways. Still, Tony swore loudly at his failure. Loki paused where he stood, eyes slowly moving over to where the knife lay embedded in the wood.

Loki gives Tony an exasperated look, reaching over with one hand to yank it out of the wall with.

“I take it you’re still upset with me.” Loki drawls, as he goes to stick the knife in his belt.

“Gee, I can’t imagine why that’d be.” Tony grouses. His attitude changes immediately, however, when Loki begins to stalk closer to the bed. Tony tries to scramble away, but Loki’s on him far too quickly, shoving the man back down to the bed. He swings himself over Tony’s abdomen, pinning him down the way he did the first night Tony had spent the night there. Tony let out a loud yelp, trying to shove the other man away, but just like that night, he quickly finds that it’s useless; Loki’s just far too strong. Loki’s hand, black nails ready to tear into him, grasps Tony around his throat, gradually squeezing, harder; until Tony’s sure he’s going to die, unable to breathe, with his eyes blacking out around the edges. He struggles to take in breath, even as his airway is restricted, which just makes things worse, choking him further. Just as Tony thought he was going to faint, Loki released him. Tony gasps, struggling to take in as much air as he can, the crash of it into his lungs is almost painful. Tony jerks away from the god as best as he can with the man practically straddling him, which isn’t far. Just enough for Tony to roll over onto his side and curl around himself, as an uncontrollable coughing fit wracked his body.

When he’s finally able, he takes a few deep, calming breaths, wipes his mouth clean and looks warily back up to the god still straddling him.

Loki waits until he has control of himself before leaning over the other man. He places his hand in Tony’s hair, yanking his head back to the point of pain, his neck bared and vulnerable.

“If you ever do anything like that again, I’m going to take that knife and defile you with it.” He growls, yanking on Tony’s head again.

Tony struggles to get away, but it’s absolutely useless.

“Jesus Christ are you serious?” Tony really knows better than to ask, but the words are out before he can stop himself.

“What do you think?” Loki growls, releasing his hair so that he can slap the man across his face. Tony’s wrenched violently to the side, ears ringing with the force of that hit, and he gets the unsettling feeling that despite feeling like his brains have been rattled out of his skull, Loki pulled his punch a hell of a lot.

“Fuck you, you bastard.” Tony just barely gets out, as Loki moves to stand. “You’re not going to get away with this!”

His team would come for him, he had to believe that. Thor would come and send Loki packing, and between he and Bruce they could figure out a way to keep his heart going until Tony was able to replace his reactor, or Clint and Natasha could find his old one and bring it back. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d mind seeing Steve, even when the man’s worry was grating on Tony’s nerves.

Loki just snorted, completely unthreatened, and moved back into the cabin. Tony didn’t move, couldn’t, really, so he just watched as Loki went through his evening routine.

He watched as Loki set out fresh provisions, quickly stowing them away in the cabinet. The man seemed to be very, very picky about where his things were, and how they were stowed, going so far as to removing the things Tony had dug through and put away earlier, and putting them away in the order that he preferred, casting little glares Tony’s way as he did. He then went about cooking something on the little wood stove, and that’s when Tony’s eyes finally slid closed, falling helplessly into a fitful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the drill~
> 
> a-dangerous-sociopath.tumblr.com
> 
> hellscomingwithme.deviantart.com


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony doesn't understand the meaning of overkill, and Loki is a creepy motherfucker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure I like the way this one came out. It may or may not be adjusted in the future, idk.

Later on he felt what seemed like an ice pack resting on his neck, covering the bruises there. He relaxed, tipping his head back to give the cool object better access to the swelling flesh. It felt good, easing the pain of Loki’s assault, and he began to slowly wake. He can see something… someone, hovering over him, the face obscured by the too bright sun.

“Pep…” He calls out sleepily, guessing his visitor’s identity as best as he can while he’s caught in that twilight between being awake and asleep. “I had the weirdest dream....”

“Rest.” He’s ordered, by a surprisingly masculine voice. It’s enough to snap him out of it, shuddering as he jolts out of the bed.

It’s morning. As this particular thought occurred to him, everything that had happened the past few days slowly came back to him. He sank back against the bed, wondering what had happened, and where Loki had gone. He drags a hand across his neck, feeling the various bruises that had popped up there overnight. Christ, Loki could have killed him!

Tony grimaces as he forces himself up from the bed, wavering shakily on his two legs, and his disorientation makes him wonder if Loki had hit him harder than he thought. Coupled with the concussion he’d sustained a few nights ago, his current weakness isn’t exactly a surprise.

On the table the hunting knife sits, as though Loki had forgotten to put it away after he’d confiscated it from Tony. He grabs the knife and holds it up in front of him like a mirror. The reflection is a little discordant, but he can see enough. There were dark, blue marks circling his neck, and a matching one on the left side of his face. Irritated, he shoves the knife back into his belt and begins to walk out to the river.

Once there he removes all of his clothes, dunking them into the river to clean them. Until he can adjust some of the clothing he’d found in the cabin to be closer to his size, this would have to do. He hangs his clothes up on a tree branch to let them dry, before heading back to the river to clean up. He’s able to shave a little with the hunting knife, enough to keep himself looking marginally groomed. There’s not a lot he can do for the bruising, so he washes them down with the cool water and hopes that he doesn’t strangle himself on the bruised flesh when it swells as he tries to sleep that night.

When both he and the clothes are comfortably dry, he makes his way back to the cabin.

This morning Loki hadn’t bothered laying anything out for him, so he goes through the cabinets himself, taking out some slightly fresher bread, some cheese, and some more extraordinarily salty jerky.

Without anything better to do at that moment, than to eat and sleep and allow his injuries to heal, Tony very quickly finds himself in dire straits. He’s bored. Incredibly so. He paces around the outside of the cabin for a while, and when that light activity no longer stimulates him he returns indoors, pulling Loki’s books off of their shelves, and attempting to read through them. Granted, Tony read in five languages with perfect fluidity, but not a single one of these books were in a language he could understand. Hell, they didn’t even look like the same language, and an attempt to translate them into English out of a fit that there must be no puzzle that Tony Stark cannot crack, eventually fell flat. Some of the characters in these books looked like runes, the others seemed to be squiggles of languages that didn’t even look like it could have originated on earth! Nothing of course, beat the 400 page hand written book that had exactly zero repeating characters, and really, what sense did that make? He tosses that book to the floor in disgust, followed by the rest in quick succession.

Afterwards he slouches back on the bed. At least in Afghanistan he had something to do, as terrible as he knows that sounds. Loki was an abusive prick and liar but for the most part he’d been left to his own devices in his captivity. Maybe he should have been grateful, but being trapped here without anything to focus on felt like a torture in and of itself. He didn’t even have much at his disposal to work on making his own escape, and since he was currently dependent on Loki and his magic for his own survival, and not knowing enough about magic to want to risk leaving beyond the spell’s perimeter in order to try and save himself, he was effectively caught with nothing better to do.

In baser Midgardian terms, he was screwed.

And, hell if that didn’t just make him angrier. The day before, when he’d hurled that knife at Loki’s head, he hadn’t been thinking to kill the god. Oh, certainly, he’d aimed to do just that, perhaps, but it wasn’t something he’d given much thought. It was a knee-jerk reaction to the anger and frustration and utter helplessness that had built up in him over the course of the day. Loki’s arrival tipped him over his breaking point. Having spent the day licking his wounds and trying to find something, anything to do, is what seems to be his trigger today.

He isn’t entirely sure when he decides that “burning the cabin to ash” is an appropriate response to these issues, but it’s not something he even realizes he’s doing until he’s flicking tinder against flint, encouraging the small fire on the uncomfortable straw mattress.

After he gets a good fire going he moves outside, just within the perimeter, as close to its edge as safety will allow, and watches, immensely satisfied as the fire spreads. Eventually it burns itself out, and there’s nothing left of the cabin but a side wall and the wood stove, Tony figures if Loki kills him for this, it’d be better than simply waiting around on his ass all day for a rescue. Particularly if it inconvenienced Loki, just a little.

When Loki returns that evening, strolling up the path with a basket of his provisions for that day, he pauses, looking to the home. His gaze silently sweeps over the area, taking in the charred remains of furniture inside, the tiny dust devils of ash being formed by the light breeze, and finally, Tony’s smug look as he stands near to his handiwork. Loki gazes at him long and hard, tapping the fingernail of his index finger against his bottom lip, expression unreadable. Tony keeps his chin up, defiant to the end.

Until Loki reaches out with a single hand, sweeping gently outwards and to the side. The ash on the ground swirls, twists, and follows the motion of Loki’s hand, and as it is blown away, the cabin returns, as untouched, as though Tony had never set the damn place to flame. He stares, agape, as Loki chuckles beside him.

“It was a valiant effort, Stark. But you do not try to destroy with regular means what was reinforced by magic.” Loki tells him with a smirk. “At least, not with my magic.”

“I don’t get it.” Tony whispers, as he follows Loki inside the cabin.

“You’re a simple creature, mortal, just like the rest of your companions.” Loki replies, and Tony can’t stop a growl at the condescending tone. “But I can certainly appreciate when one of you attempts to give me tribute. I do enjoy a good bit of chaos. Just try not to make a habit of this.”

Loki opens up the basket, removing a few fruits from the top. “Hungry?” Loki offers, holding out a juicy looking white peach towards his prisoner.

Tony crouches onto the bed, sitting on the far corner, which was as far as he could get from Loki’s side. “Weird, I just lost my appetite.” Tony replies bitterly, pointedly not looking at the god.

Loki shrugs, as he goes to pick up one of the books that Tony had tossed onto the floor earlier, which infuriatingly didn’t look the remotest bit charred.

“When you are hungry later, and you will be, it is there.” Loki tells him, uninterested in pressing the matter any further.

Tony rolls his eyes in frustration. They sit there mostly in silence, while Tony watches out the window, concentrating on anything but the irritating god. Once its dark enough he steals the blankets and pillow and heads outside to sleep in the grass again. He hears Loki begin to laugh at his behavior. Tony angrily slams the door and goes to make his own bed.

The next morning, again, Tony finds himself on the straw mattress, wrapped in blankets, with a log on the wooden stove. He wonders for a moment if he should maybe be worried at Loki’s propensity towards picking him up and carrying him around while he’s asleep, but at the moment he’s content enough not to care. He pulls the blankets up over his head and continues to doze.

For the next six days, Tony burns the cabin down, making it his personal objective to try and cause as much destruction as possible, working hard to outdo the previous day’s damages. He tells himself that it’s because he wants to see the limits of Loki’s magic, and see if there was some kind of weakness he could possibly exploit. He knows he won’t find one this way, but it’s still ever so satisfying to destroy, again and again, something that Loki created, even if the most reaction he gets from the man is a halfhearted shrug before he restores the cabin to its untouched state.

Finally, though, he comes to the point where setting fire to Loki’s things starts to become a chore, and he no longer has any interest in it. Finding himself at the beginning of his predicament all over again, Tony begins to become truly depressed.

Later that evening, when Loki’s set out his and Tony’s provisions for the evening, Tony finally decides to talk to the bastard. He hasn’t particularly wanted to up until this point, choosing to remain obstinately silent in the man’s presence, and Loki didn’t often press him to speak anyways, so he didn’t really think there was any point. Looking back on things, he should’ve maybe tried to tease out that super villain monologue he just knows Loki’s been holding in since day one of his abduction, but he’d been in kind of an emotional state, then. It was no excuse, but it was something that Loki just seemed to bring out in him.

He’s sitting at the table this time when Loki silently hands him an unpeeled orange, and watches intently as Tony begins to eat.

“So,” Tony asks, casually enough, as he digs his fingers into its skin. “How’s the whole trap for Thor thing working out for you?” He asks.

Loki raises an eyebrow at Tony. “Why, all of a sudden, do you care?” He asks suspiciously.

Tony matches the look, leaning easily back in his seat. “Let’s call it curiosity. It’s not like there’s anything I can do about it here, right?” He says, eying Loki.

Loki hums softly, as he works to peel his own orange. “No, your hands are quite tied, while you are here.” He nods.

Tony briefly flashes his teeth at Loki, before he forces himself to calm down.

“The trap is working quite well. I just need the right mouse to walk into it.”

“What, your bait not working out the way you thought it would?” Tony asks, scoffing.

Loki shrugs. “Don’t worry. The fool is appropriately concerned for you. He’s positive that I must be conducting all manner of torment upon your person.”

Tony frowns. “Well, you did take the one thing keeping me alive.” He points out.

“And yet, here you are.” Loki replies, taking a bite of his orange.

“For how long?” Tony snorts, setting his fruit aside. Once again, he finds himself losing his appetite.

“I suppose, until I find I no longer have need of you. For now, I find your technical prowess makes you an asset too valuable to easily dispose of.”

Tony glares. “If you think for a hot minute I’m going to do anything…”

Loki smirks. “No, I suppose not. Not without the right incentive.” He replies darkly, in a way that sends a shiver up Tony’s spine. He stands up, then, crossing to stand behind Tony. Ten long, icy cold fingers, wrap around his neck from behind, brushing over bruises that are still tender, despite the fact that he’d received them about a week ago. If he’d been home, he probably could have had them properly treated, but here he was on his own. He tenses when Loki uses his thumbs to push Tony’s head over, forcing him to face down.

“How very fragile you mortals are.” Loki whispers, shaking his head. “How very tempting it is, the urge to push my fingers into your flesh, to watch it part for me as a knife through butter. You know how quickly I could rip the muscle from your bones? I could lay you truly bare in front of me, and there’s nothing you could do to stop me.”

Tony stays quiet, holding his breath as Loki threatens him. Slowly, Loki pulls away, remaining behind him.

Tony breathes out slowly, reaching to run a hand over his neck. “You’re nuts. You really ought to consider getting that checked out.”

Loki reaches forward again, lightly smacking the back of his skull. Or, lightly considering who’s doing the smacking. Tony rubs the back of his head, sparing a glare for the deity.

“Consider yourself fortunate that I have no need for you, at the moment. Just sit back and enjoy your stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and visit me at~~~
> 
> a-dangerous-sociopath.tumblr.com
> 
> hellscomingwithme.deviantart.com


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets in touch with his inner Disney princess.

After nearly getting himself killed one day with his daily fire, (during which he caught part of the forest on fire and was nearly forced to leave the perimeter and take his chances without Loki’s spell. Loki had not been happy.) Tony finally decides to take better stock of the area he’s trapped in and find something else to do.

After a bit of wandering he finds quite a bit more wildlife than he’d found during his original tour. He noticed a few rabbits that scattered as soon as he made his approach, a few fish in the small river that ran through the place. He was able to root up a few potatoes, as well, and maybe, he reasoned, among Loki’s herb collection in the cabinets, he’d find something to season them with.

Tony gathered up what he could and brought the potatoes in. He took a few sprigs of rosemary from Loki’s collection (since he wasn’t there to tell him no) and put them in a pot with the potatoes and set them to boil. Then, he returned outside. With his knife, he took a couple of branches from a nearby tree, cut them down, and brought them inside to dry by the stove.

When Loki returned that evening to a dinner of rosemary potatoes, bread, jerky, and finding strips of wood of various sizes hanging from his walls, he blanched in confusion somewhat.

“What is all of this?” Loki asked, looking at the various trappings.

“None of your goddamn business.” Tony answered. “You gonna eat, or what?”

Loki stared at him for a minute, a frown pinching his lips together. Tony sighs.

“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He says, placing a potato on a plate and shoving it into Loki’s hands.  “Not for lack of trying, you know. Your poison stores are a little low.”

Loki still watched him, as Tony picked up one of the potatoes and begins to dig in. After Tony’s gotten a few bites in, and still shows no sign of illness, Loki finally opts to try his potato. Tony snorts.

“You have some serious trust issues, don’t you?”

Loki wipes his mouth before answering, very prince-like, if Tony did say so himself.

“Do you blame me?” Loki asks, looking to Tony absently. His tone was bereft of its usual haughtiness, today. He wondered if that meant something had happened in the outside world that he should know about.

“I guess not. You’re like, meta-douche. You’re what other douches aspire to be, the pinnacle of douche-like behavior. I’d probably be paranoid too.” He half expect Loki to give him a cross look for that, or send him flying out another window, but instead he gives him a wry smirk.

“Indeed. There are quite a few people wouldn’t shed a tear at the news of my destruction.”

“I’m one of them.” Tony says, around a bit of potato. Not a streak of royalty, there. “Hell, I might throw a party. Hire a couple of hookers, happy endings for everyone. My treat.”

Loki rolls his eyes, but the expression on his face was… Amused? Weird.

“So, aside from the first attempt,” Loki says, glancing to the knife still sitting on Stark’s belt. “Why have you not tried to kill me?”

“Fuck if I know. The first time I didn’t mean it, not really. I was just irritated.” Tony admits. “For whatever reason I just knew you weren’t going to get hurt.”

Loki glances to Tony, leaning back in his seat, studying Tony intently.

“Indeed?”

“Well, for now you’re my only link to the outside world.” Tony points out. “Until I can find a better way out…”

“You need me.”

Tony scoffs. “For now. A situation that can easily be remedied.”

Loki stares. “How?”

Tony raises an eyebrow at Loki, because he doesn’t quite know the answer to that himself yet. “Like I’d tell you.” He answers instead.

Loki smirks, settling into his meal.

“Dream on.”

~

After a few days the sticks he’d hung up by the stove were finally dry enough to remove from the heat. Tony took one of the ones he thought was still flexible enough and began to work with it. He carved off the notches and bark from the wood, smoothing it out into the shape he needed for this project. Cannibalizing some of the leather from one of Loki’s outfits and his shirt that he arrived in, he’s able to make a grip for his bow, and string it efficiently. It then gets to work on the other sticks, carving out a few primitive, but efficient, arrows, fletching them with the feathers he’s found lying around the perimeter.

Satisfied with its look and flexibility, it was time to test it.  He climbed a tree, figuring that would be the best way to take in the area without accidentally startling his prey, (and no, there’s no way he’s ever going to tell Clint about this if they ever meet again) sitting over the small clearing where he’d found the rabbits earlier. He doesn’t have to wait long for one to come out, snuffling the ground for good grass to eat.

It’s not his first time using one of these; he’d had a few lessons in the third or fourth grade. That was about thirty years ago, of course, and he hadn’t picked up the hobby since, but it was one of those things that was hard to forget. The way he holds himself, the position of the bow, feeling the target… He takes careful aim, trying to imitate the way Clint held his in battle. Of course, he didn’t usually have the time or inclination to study Clint too carefully, Tony usually had his own problems. For now, he closed his eyes, opened them, aimed, inhaled…

And on the exhale, he let his arrow loose.

He missed, an embarrassingly wide shot, the string catching his nose as it snaps back. But, considering that this was his first attempt at it since grade school, it wasn’t exactly a terrible shot. His arrow stuck in the grass, at an angle, and stayed. The rabbit scurried off, and Tony pulled another arrow from his holster, and waited.

By that evening, Tony had long strips of rabbit boiling on the stove. He’d made something of a stew from it; with the potatoes he’d found, and a little bit of the rosemary in Loki’s herb collection. He also made it a point to save the fur and the sinew, figuring it could be useful to him later.

He was sitting in the tree again when he spotted Loki walking down the path. Tony had been practicing his aim on a couple of neighboring trees. He’d lost a lot of arrows, with varying success at hitting his targets. Loki though, was a slow moving, soft, pink, and very, very tempting target. Tony took careful aim, breathed in, and loosed his arrow on the exhale.

Loki’s head snapped up. With a quickness that surprised Tony, the other man reached up, and seemingly plucked the arrow out of the air, inches from his face. As though confused, Loki examined the projectile, holding it out in front of him. Then he glances up into the trees, visually scanning the area it came from.

Seeing the displeased frown on Loki’s face gave him a small sense of dread, so Tony began to ease away from his perch, thinking he could evade the god for a while if he stayed up there, moving from branch to branch. It sounded like a good plan in retrospect. He manages to move to the next tree without making too much noise.

“Stark?”

_Shit_. Tony doesn’t answer, as stealthily as he can, he continues to move through the tree. The next one over is a little far…

“I know you’re up there.” Loki continues, sounding very close to him now.  The sound of it startles Tony so that he decides, the hell with it, and reaches out to the branch closest to him.

He really shouldn’t have been surprised when it snapped. That kind of thing was just his luck, really.

The girlish shriek he lets out as he plummets does kind of surprise him, as are the arms that wrap around him before he can hit the forest floor.  Somehow, Loki was able to reach him just in time, catching him and cushioning him as they both tumble to the ground.

Before Tony can even process everything that’s happened, Loki shoves him off and straddles him again, but this time he looked… Amused? Again. Loki was the most confusing bastard.

Tony was still holding onto his bow, he hadn’t even realized that until Loki grabbed it and held it up so that he was eye level with it, smirking.

“Anthony…” Loki drawled, looking to Tony. “This is how you amuse yourself in my absence?” He asks, waving the bow in the air. Tony tries to take it back, but Loki evades him, holding it over both of their heads.

 “Well, it’s not like there’s much else to do here.” Tony pointed out. “You know, I’m pretty sure that criminals in jail at least get a newspaper, cable, something.”

Loki grins, as he plays with the bow. He pulls back on the string, letting it go so that it snapped back with a loud ‘twang.’ Tony winces.

“You’re going to break it, stop!” Tony orders, trying to grab it back, but Loki evades him again.

“This is actually not a bad attempt, Anthony. I’m rather surprised. I didn’t expect this out of you.” Loki praises, as he tries takes aim with it again. Tony growls at him, irritated.

But, the god hands it back. He doesn’t move from his spot, still seated across Tony’s chest.

“You are odd, Stark. I’m glad I took you.”

“As opposed to who?” Tony growls, even as he checks over his bow for damage. Loki just shrugs.

“You were the most ideal for my plans, having what I needed.”

“Yeah, about that…”

“None of your business.” Loki quickly snaps, sliding off of the other man. Tony doesn’t move for a moment, brushing a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, it’s just my heart you’re taking for nefarious purposes.”

“I have no further comment on the matter. Come here and explain what you’ve left unattended on my stove.”

Tony swears, letting himself up, and heading over to explain to Loki the concept of “soup.” Loki didn’t care much for his sarcasm.

~

The next day, Tony wakes up and heads into the cabin to make something for his breakfast. What he finds on the table, in place of the provisions Loki had been leaving him, a well-crafted bow sits. The edges are tipped with silver, and the entire length of it is engraved with several intricate patterns and designs. Beside it is a leather quiver, filled with arrows. With _actual_ arrowheads!

“Asshole.” Tony mutters, before picking up the set with a grin. He figures there is a message here in this gift, something along the lines of ‘I liked your soup, make me more.’

He decides to hunt for his breakfast that morning. He already had another project in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to watch me rage over stupid things? Or draw unfunny comics?
> 
> a-dangerous-sociopath.tumblr.com
> 
> hellscomingwithme.deviantart.com


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's never liked the rain.

Tony had been asleep for a few hours in his normal spot, wrapped up in the blanket from head to toe, curled up so as not to freeze to death when he feels a sharp, strong jab hit him in the kidney. Tony wheezes for a second, sleepily flinging out an arm to hit Loki back. 

“Loki I’m going to murder you.” Tony warns crankily, weakly trying to bat him away.

Loki made an angry noise and hit him again.

“It is raining you dullard! Now get out of that damn thing before you drown, you pathetic waste of skin!”

Oh. He _was_ feeling a little damp. He guessed that explained it.

He flung off the damp blanket, and grabbed onto Loki as the other man hauled him to his feet. Loki picked up the blanket and followed Tony inside. Standing inside the warm, dry cabin made Tony realize just how damp and cold he actually was, and he began to shiver minutely, goose bumps rising on his skin.

Tony watched dumbly for a minute as Loki moved over to the stove, spreading out the damp blanket before it. Despite being cold and wet, Tony still hadn’t quite woken up enough to process everything, just yet. It takes Loki giving him a firm “Sit down, fool!” to get Tony moving.

Tony begins to strip off his wet things; grabbing a one of the outfits he’d modified to fit him a little better. He’d taken to sewing, recently, using the spare clothes Loki had abandoned in the cabin and the many rabbit furs he’d been collecting to make himself something a little more decent, since the clothing he’d been abducted in was getting a little worn from washing every day. Loki paid him no attention as he took Tony’s wet clothes from him and spread them out by the stove as well.

After he was changed, in something clean and dry, he finally sat down on the mattress, pulling up his legs up to sit cross legged on it. He would have loved to have just gone back to sleep, but something was off. Loki was acting antsy.

After he set everything to dry, Loki moved to the window, staring at the rain dribbling down from the roof. Tony watches him closely. An errant lightning strike hits somewhere nearby and Loki flinches, backing away from the window. Tony can’t help a small smirk as Loki moves to cover the window with one of Tony’s pelts.

“It’s Thor, huh?” He asks, and he can’t help the smile that’s crossing his face as he says it. “He’s getting close.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “Nonsense.”

“Maybe I should go back out…”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Loki tells him firmly. The window apparently secure, Loki steps away and begins to walk towards Tony.

Tony knew he was pushing his luck, he did, but he couldn’t help it.

“So what are you gonna do when Thor saves me? I like to think that you’re going to be very bored and lonely without me. Now you’re going to have to promise you’re not going to get anyone to replace me, it’d break my poor heart to know that you were flirting with other hostages. I suppose that’s assuming that Thor doesn’t clean your clock straight to- what the hell was that for?!” Tony shouts, pulling away from the god and rubbing his forehead, where Loki had stabbed him with a sharp fingernail.

Loki gives him an unamused look.

“That was a sleep spell.” Loki says. “To shut you up before I do something I’ll regret.”

“That’s cheating!” Tony protests, even as his suddenly weary limbs begin to drag him down. “You just don’t want me getting Thor’s attention…”

Loki pushes him down with one hand, forcing him easily back to the bed, way too easily. Loki’s magic weaves through him quickly, making his eyes itch and his limbs heavy.

“Lie down and be silent.” Loki instructed, keeping a hand on Tony’s chest, pinning him to the mattress.

Tony was going under fast, and there was nothing he could do to fight it. He tries, uselessly grabbing a hold of the other man’s wrist and trying to shove him back, but Loki could have been made of stone, for all the good it did him. He watched over him silently as Tony closed his eyes with a sigh. Even afterwards, Loki didn’t move, didn’t remove his hand. It was weird.

“This is awkwardly the most homoerotic experience of my life.” He complained, as sleep took him.

Tony didn’t wake up until the afternoon again the next day. At least, he thinks it’s the next afternoon. It’s dark and raining still, occasionally interrupted by some of the most impressive lightning Tony had ever seen. But his mouth is dry like he’d just slept through a cold, or a hangover, for the past two days. (Both of which are things he’s had experience with.) Tony is cold enough to not want to leave the cabin that day, but to use the outhouse, when he has too. He chooses to stay inside, for the most part, wrapped up in the dry clothes and blanket warmed by the wood stove. He doesn’t truly need to go out, anyways. He’s caught and gathered enough food to last him a few days anyways.

It continues to rain hard, all day.

Loki is gone, which isn’t unusual in itself. It is strange, however, when he doesn’t return to the cabin that night.

~

It takes three days for the rain to stop, and Loki still hasn’t come back.

Tony hadn’t been particularly worried until day five when the god STILL hadn’t returned and his provisions were getting low. Tony was still pretty self-sufficient, but Loki would supplement the small meals he made with things like carrots or mango sometimes, and that had helped him a lot.

He wondered if, perhaps, the god had been killed, but tossed that notion aside. After all, wouldn’t he be dead, too? He’s pretty sure dead people can’t maintain the spells that are as complicated as the ones keeping him captive. Sure, he didn’t know much about magic, but he was almost certain that was how it worked.

On the eleventh day since Loki had gone missing, Tony is back in his tree, relaxing. The sky had cleared up considerably since then, and he had spent the morning doing what he needed to survive; gathering wood for the stove, hunting rabbits and catching the occasional fish for food, digging up potatoes when he could. He knew he couldn’t keep this up forever, so he was really hinging on Loki coming back.

That’s when he noticed the other man hobbling up the road. Tony narrows his eyes, reaching for his bow and quiver a split second before he recognized him.

 Something seemed wrong with Loki. Off. Tony frowns, as he climbed down from his tree.

“Loki.” Tony called out. Loki pauses in his tracks warily, making a small noise, as if Tony had startled him. Tony raises his hands up, trying to calm him. “It’s just me.”  

Loki looks up at him, eyes glossy, clearly disoriented. He takes a slow, careful step forward, wavering slowly, back and forth as he struggles to keep upright.

All the heckles on the back of Tony’s neck begin to rise at seeing this. He moves forward.

“Are you…?”

Loki opens his mouth to answer, a small trickle of blood escaping his parted lips to stream down his chin. The man pauses, seeming confused for a moment, raising a hand to touch the blood discoloring his pale features. He pulls it back, seeing the blood discoloring the tips of his fingers.

“Oh. This isn’t good…” Is all Loki manages to get out, before his eyes roll upwards and his legs crumple beneath him.

Swearing, Tony runs forward, grabbing the god around the waist and trying, and failing, to keep him upright.  In the end, Tony just kind of sets him down in the grass, somehow straddling the god, and if Tony hadn’t been so completely panicked by the turn of events, he might have said something smug.

Tony manages to get Loki back to the cabin, after a great deal of struggling, grunting and even dropping the other man once. (Oops.) But he does eventually get Loki propped up on the straw mattress. Once he’s got him situated, he begins to undo the many, many, many complicated straps on Loki’s armor. Getting Loki undressed is a chore. He’s never actually hated undressing a person before; oftentimes that was a precursor to more fun activities down the road. But Loki had layers upon layers of thick garments and metal pieces and Tony soldiers on until he remembers that he’s not actually getting anything out of this and just begins to cut things off with the hunting knife. Loki could be pissed at him later, but then again, as Tony begins to uncover some of these injuries, Loki’s really just lucky to still be breathing, so Tony doesn’t expecting an outburst anytime soon. (Although Tony kind of hopes he’ll try to have one anyways, just for the sheer hilarity of it.) Once he has the god completely naked, he’s able to take stock of all of his injuries, and not a single one of them looks like something that ought to be survivable.

Seriously, the last time he’d seen someone looking this bad he was pretty sure he was at one of those mandatory driving classes and Red Asphalt had been involved. Loki’s bleeding from almost every orifice, and it looked like a few new ones had been cut open for him. A gaping injury over his abdominals revealed several lacerated organs, a few broken ribs (which he could actually see, much to his stomach’s displeasure), and several infected wounds that had been sliced open and had begun to improperly heal. Every one of his fingers on his left hand had been broken and left hanging at an awkward angle, his right shoulder dislocated, right ankle clearly broken, and Tony couldn’t tell, but he was pretty sure that he had a concussion, from the way the back of his head bled freely, spilling onto the pillow.

And Tony didn’t have so much as his first aid kit.

He couldn’t even believe Loki was still alive, but he assumed that had to have been some kind of Asgardian healing thing, so he did what he thought was appropriate. He grabbed the pot from the stove, recently cleaned for the evening meal that Tony hadn’t even started yet, and took it out to the river to gather some water. He brought it back and set it to boil, placing his hunting knife inside the pot to sterilize it while he went to work tearing up the clean clothes he’d set aside for himself. Once the water was finished boiling, he wrapped one of the cloths around his fist, dampened it in the burning hot water, and began to clean away some of the blood. Loki remained blissfully unconscious while Tony prodded at him. When he came to a wound that had healed over, sealing in the infection, Tony took the sterilized hunting knife, slit it open, and pushed out the infected pus with his hands. Afterwards he packed it with some of the cloth and tied it up.

He wished he could do more. Washing his wounds and wrapping them up seemed so basic, but it was all he could do. Once Tony had done all that he can for Loki he grabs the chair and brings it over to the side of the bed. He sits down beside him and waits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates may be coming a little slower for a little while. Just a heads up!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Tony no longer has the time to be bored.

After a few hours and Loki hasn’t wakened, Tony moves to check his pulse. Slow, but still present. He’s breathing shallowly, but Tony doesn’t expect that to even out for a while, with his broken ribs. He changes his bandages (which turns out to be an awful, excruciating affair,) replaces them, and takes the old ones out to wash, dry, and wash again in boiling hot water before hanging them to dry. Again, for now, it’s the best he can do, and fresh dressings and medical supplies are not available to him.

A day later and Tony’s beginning to consider forcing fluids on his patient. Every few hours those bandages are saturated with Loki’s blood, almost faster than Tony can sterilize the old ones, and the man had not been awake to receive any kind of nourishment.

Tony has no idea if it’ll work, but he gets one of the cups down from the cupboard, fills it with water, and sits at Loki’s side. He slides an arm under Loki’s shoulder, hauling him so that he’s sitting upright, head tilted back over Tony’s arm. Tony decides to leave him like that.

He’s kind of hoping to bypass Loki’s gag reflex this way, but as soon as he begins to tip the water down Loki’s throat, the man begins to cough, his body writhing to accommodate the liquid.

Tony places him back against the mattress, frowning.

Instead he finds a spoon and begins to administer the water that way, spoonful by slow, careful spoonful. Loki seems to do much better that way, with Tony giving him just enough water to keep his mouth and throat damp.

A few more days go by, with no further sign that the god’s anywhere near waking. His wounds are healing very slowly, which Tony finds surprising. It took a hell of a lot to knock Thor out, but even when he was, it always seemed like he was able to pick himself up in a very short time. Loki still looked like he was dead. Which led Tony to wonder; had the god been poisoned? Was there something Tony had overlooked?

Tony’s considering this possibility when Loki’ breathing suddenly picks up. Tony glances over. A frown mars Loki’s face, disrupting the discoloration on his cheeks, the bluish-tinged bruises that had yet to fade. Tony walks over, sitting on the side of the bed.

Loki’s still clearly too weak to move much, but Tony can see his fingers twitching, muscles in his arms spasming as though he wants to move, and the look on his face becomes fearful and desperate.

Apparently gods were not immune to nightmares.

Tony bites his lip. He wasn’t very good at comforting people. The few times Pepper had woken up with a nightmare, Tony had felt absolutely useless; nothing he said could seem to help her.

His train of thought is interrupted when he realizes he has no idea why he should care. The god had kidnapped him and hidden him away here. He’d been on the receiving end of Loki’s ire more times than Tony could count, and Loki never had any second thoughts about it.

Still, in a strange way it hurt to see the man like this. Ignoring the fact that this man was an enemy, it would hurt to see anyone like this. Loki looked particularly pale and thin, so much younger than he did when awake and talking back like the snarky bastard he was. Tony sighs, and reaches out to place his hand on Loki’s forehead. He gently runs his thumb over Loki’s forehead, the way his mother did, when he was very little and she still gave a damn.

Loki bites his lip, but appears to relax after that. When Loki is deeply asleep again Tony draws away, feeling the need to clear his mind. He takes his bow and arrows and goes out to shoot a rabbit for his dinner.

When Loki begins to wake again, Tony’s in the middle of making another fur quilt, weaved together from the furs of his latest catches. He pauses, needle held in the air when he hears a noise emanating from the bed. Tony puts aside his project and heads over to the bed. Loki’s eyes are clenched tightly shut, his face warped in terror as he struggles to wake up.

Tony reaches out, placing a hand on his shoulder to keep Loki from jerking upright and ripping something. The last thing they needed was for Loki to reopen an injury and set them back to the beginning all over again. It’s far too easy for Tony to hold him down, which ought to be his first clue to just how bad off Loki was at the moment.

Eventually, Loki works his eyes open, but they’re glossy and dazed and Tony realizes that Loki probably isn’t even seeing him right now.

“Loki.” He says softly, and Loki’s eyes refocus, flitting wildly about the room before they finally settle on Tony.

“Oh.” Loki whispers quietly, looking up to him. He relaxes, and Tony draws his hands away.

“Oh? That’s it? No ‘thank you for taking care of my ass even though I clearly don’t deserve it?’ No ‘you really didn’t have to mop up literal quarts of my blood and other bi- products but I appreciate it?’” Tony snarks, but when Loki points to his own throat Tony let an ‘oh’ of his own out and went to get the god a glass of water. Once the god has managed to swallow some of it, (a small sip, the man wasn’t an idiot,) he falls back against the mattress, with Tony’s arm around his back to ease the way.

“You did all that for me?” Loki asks him weakly, and Tony can tell that Loki’s maybe only partly awake right now. His eyes still have that glossy, confused look and Tony suddenly feels terrible for jostling the other man.

“Yeah, I did.” He says quietly, moving to draw the blanket up over Loki’s shoulders once again. “And you should really consider going back to bed for the time being. I need to change those bandages again in about an hour, and you really don’t need to be awake for that.”

Loki seems to consider it at least. Exhaustion drips out of every fiber of the man’s being.

“Thank you, Tony.” Loki says weakly, before nuzzling into the pillows and closing his eyes.

Tony has to work to keep his eyes from bugging out of his skull, because just how far gone does Loki need to be in order for Tony to get a thank you from the goddamn god of mischief? And he said “Tony.” Not Anthony, not Stark, not idiot, fool, or anything in weird Norse gibberish. ‘Tony.’ It startles him to the point that Tony grabs blindly for Loki’s wrist, taking the man’s pulse and feeling for his heartbeat to make sure Loki hadn’t promptly died on him. To his great relief and frank amazement, Loki lives. Go fucking figure.

The next day, Loki’s a tiny bit more lucid, watching Tony foggily from his spot on the bed, as the other man goes about his daily routine. It brings Tony to the realization that the man had never actually stayed the day with him before, and he feels weirdly self-conscious about it. It’s silly, he understands this, but that does exactly nothing to help him.

He’s stirring a pot of mashed potatoes, something he’d been preparing for a while for himself. He thinks that it’s the only thing Loki can honestly stomach right now, with so many of his injuries still being slow to heal.

Tony silently fills a bowl and offers the tasteless mush to Loki, who takes it without complaint. That was strange in and of itself. Tony watched him carefully, as Loki fed himself a few spoonfuls, before handing it back with a pained look. Tony’s not surprised. He’s not ready to force the issue yet, with as grievous as Loki’s injuries still are.

Tony takes the bowl and dumps the rest outside, figuring something will come and finish it off, before taking it inside to wash. Loki sinks back into the mattress, as though the simple action had completely worn him out. Tony walks back over to the bed, drawing the blanket up over the other man again. The added warmth seems to be all the encouragement Loki needs to fall back asleep, turning his face into the small feather pillow.

Tony gathers his sewing materials for the new quilt he’d been working on, and resumes his watch over Loki again.

When Tony returns from the outhouse that afternoon, Loki’s awake again, holding the blanket up and seemingly examining himself underneath. Tony feigns a cough, startling the other man, which again is a little surreal. Normally he had to work to get the drop on Loki. He’d never succeeded before Loki turned up injured.

“Still a little out of it, huh?” Tony asks, as he moves to take the chair.

Loki frowns, pulling the blanket up over his chest, as though guarding his modesty, which Tony can’t help but find exceedingly hilarious.

“Yeah… Sorry about your bondage gear, had a hell of a time getting you out of it the first time. It’s all destroyed, but to be fair you were bleeding to death.” Tony says, as he grabs the chair and pulls it over to the side of the bed. It sits on it backwards, leaning against the back of the chair with his elbows. “Didn’t see any point in dressing you either, since you have a tendency to bleed through those bandages every few hours.”

Loki doesn’t reply, tucking the blanket more firmly around him. He probably wasn’t too interested in Tony’s explanation. He sighs.

“By the way, it’s been a week. And granted, I know nothing about your particular biology, but shouldn’t you at least be showing some improvement?” Tony asks. “These wounds are just as nasty as the day you passed out on me. What’s going on?” He asks.

Loki looks away for a moment, and again, Tony doesn’t think he’s going to get a reply.

“I’d heal a lot faster if I let you die.” Was the quiet reply he received, Loki’s lips curling upwards into a devilish smirk. On reflex, Tony places a hand over the empty reactor casing, before giving Loki a scowl.

“Right. I’m out.” He says, throwing his hands up in frustration as he begin to head outside again, Loki’s gentle laugh trailing behind him.

“Save a guy’s life, and that’s the thanks you get.” Tony mumbles, as he goes about his business for the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to leave a quick note here: I am very, very grateful for all the support and love this story has gotten, both on here and on deviantArt. It's much appreciated! :)
> 
> a-dangerous-sociopath.tumblr.com
> 
> hellscomingwithme.deviantart.com


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the calm before the storm, Tony and Loki do a little bonding.

For the next week, Loki’s wounds showed absolutely no sign of improvement, and he continued to bleed at a steady, worrying rate. If the god looked pale and thin before, he looked downright ghostly now, waif-like and sickly. He had to fight to keep nourishment down, and Tony had to learn when to press the issue, and when to leave Loki be. The god had thrown up his meal once and Tony didn’t ever want a repeat of that.

The worst thing was, Loki only seemed to be aware of his surroundings some of the time. Some days Loki knew where he was, and was even able to hold a conversation with him. Other days Loki seemed to be miles away, trapped in some memory in the past. Once Loki had mistaken Tony for his mother. That had been awkward.

One afternoon Tony decided to corral Loki into an explanation, during one of Loki’s lucid days. He was feeling particular irritation that day, this being what felt like the billionth time he’d cleaned and dressed these wounds, sterilized these bandages, and no matter how hard he cleaned them it seemed like the blood would never come completely out, and he was almost positive that Loki was dying now because of it.

“So,” Tony says almost casually, as he gently places Loki back against the bed, tugging the fur quilt up over Loki’s shoulders again. “It’s been nearly two and a half weeks now. You’ve still got gaping wounds all over your body. And since I’m the one cleaning and dressing them, I think it’s a fair question when I ask, why?”

Loki gives him a curious look. Tony scrubs at his own face in frustration.

“You need to tell me what happened.” Tony amends. “And be completely honest with me, because you might be a god, but even you don’t have the energy to keep this up forever.”

Loki gives him an annoyed look, though considering how worn he looks it loses its effectiveness considerably.

“Stark, I am disinclined to share-“

“Okay, cut that bullshit right now.” Tony snaps, jabbing a finger into Loki’s uninjured shoulder. Loki gives him a startled look, but he closes his mouth.

“You listen here, and you listen good. Whether you want to own up to it or not, you are dying. This bleeding every day, the bandages that I really ought to consider throwing out at this point, the fact that you can’t eat or drink properly, hell, look at the bones in your wrist, look!” Tony grabs the god’s arm, yanking it out from under the covers. Loki shivers and tries to pull away. Of course he doesn’t get far.

“You couldn’t even fight me off right now, if I had it in mind to hurt you. Doesn’t that scare you? Please tell me that that scares you, because it scares me.” Tony says, releasing Loki’s wrist. The other man yanks his wrist away, and turns his face into the pillow, but Tony won’t let him escape that easy.

“Loki, please. If things get any worse, you’re not the only one who’ll die.” Tony reminds. “You’re just making yourself suffer needlessly.”

Loki doesn’t move, scratching helplessly at the mattress beneath him. Tony sighs, opens his mouth to speak again, when Loki interrupts him.

“They said that if I failed… I’d long for something sweet as death.” He whispers quietly, voice trembling at the memory.

Tony tilts his head to the side. “The people who did this?” He questions, and Loki nods. “That army you were borrowing.” He says, mind connecting the dots. “They got to you before Thor could.”

Loki doesn’t confirm any of this, but he doesn’t need to. “That’s why you were gone for so long. Loki, what did they do to you? Why can’t you heal?”

Loki looks up to him, wincing softly as he moves. “Everything you see. And… There was something else.”

Tony had suspected something like that. His fingers dig into his thighs as he considers the implications. “What was it? Is there a cure I could…?”

Loki shakes his head softly, though it clearly pains him to do so. “There is nothing on this planet that would suffice.”

“So what? Your plan was to lie here and bleed to death?” Tony hisses, leaning in closer to Loki. “You unbelievably stupid- I bet I could find a cure. Just let me take you back to civilization, and I’ll-“

“I don’t have the strength for that. I… If given the time, I’m confident I could fight it off on my own.” Loki says quietly. He tries to sit up under his own power, then, though his arms shake and barely support him. “I’ve done it before.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” He swears, grabbing his bow and quiver and heading outside. He needed time away from the god to clear his head, because if he didn’t, he was going to hurt him. As he hunted jack rabbits on the edge of the perimeter, he tried not to think about how a death sentence for Loki would mean his own demise as well.

~

It was several more days before Loki was able to come to his senses again. Loki’s moments of lucidity were becoming fewer and farther apart, which was cause for great concern on Tony’s part. By now nearly a month had gone by since Loki first turned up with his injuries, and it felt like not a bit of progress had been made, like all of Tony’s efforts to keep Loki alive were wasted. He’s still bleeding like a stuck pig, bones still broken. Whatever had happened, while Loki was gone, it’d screwed up his ability to heal but good.

Tony’s considering this, as he gears up to go on his daily hunt. Loki’s eyes are tired, but he’s at least aware. The next time the man fell asleep, he’d be worlds away again, and Tony feared the wait would be long again before Loki came to his senses, assuming he did come back, and didn’t die between now and then. For that alone Tony had resisted going out, but the day was drawing on, and the food they had would not get them through the night, when it was too dark to go out and hunt. As he began to gear up, Loki watched him carefully.

“Where do you go out every afternoon?” Loki asks him. Tony pauses, hand on his bow.

“Well, today I’m going fishing. I’m tired of jack rabbit.” He says nonchalantly, as he begins to pull his quiver over his shoulders.

Loki gives him a skeptical look. “You can fish with that?” He asks.

Tony almost mentions that he’s done it before, if the fish dinner he’d fed Loki a few nights before was any indicator, when he remembered that Loki probably wouldn’t remember, since that had not been one of Loki’s lucid days.

“I’ve got to see this.” Loki mentions, pulling the blanket up around him more firmly.

Now it’s Tony’s turn to look skeptical, eyeing Loki where he half lay, half sat on the bed. “How are you going to get there? You can’t walk.” Tony waits a few moments, before holding his hands up. “I’m not carrying you.”

Loki gives him a pleading look. “Please? I’ve been stuck here so long… I’d like a change of scenery.”

Tony’s mouth fails him for a moment. Loki never asked for anything. _Never._ Demanded? Sure. Never asked. He was even using his “polite” words. Please? He wasn’t sure that term existed in Loki’s vocabulary.

“Join the club.” Tony tells him sharply, as he begins to face the door.

Loki gives him a sad look that stops Tony in his tracks, because he looked so young and fragile like that, like Tony had destroyed his entire world and spat on his mother and hit his dad in the face with his dick all at once. Tony pauses in front of the door, swears under his breath, and then rounds on Loki, approaching the bed.

He grabs the spare blanket he’d made and puts it over his shoulder, then he moves to wrap Loki up more tightly in the blanket. Loki helps as much as he can, which isn’t much, but at least he does try. Tony then slides his arms under Loki’s shoulders and knees, pulling him up from the bed.

“You owe me.” Tony whispers, as he settles Loki against his chest. The god weighs a hell of a lot less than he should, considering how tall he is, but Loki’s injuries make keeping down food difficult. With his burden secure against him, he begins to make his way

“Of course, Stark, how would you like me to repay you? In gold or silver?” Loki asks him, as he dizzily reaches to wrap his arms around Tony’s neck.

“In arc reactors?” Tony tries.

Loki snorts. “You seem to have an unhealthy attachment to that thing. I think this separation will do you good.”  
  
“I could drop you.”

Loki gives him a demure grin.

He sets Loki down (without dropping him!) on the spare blanket on the bank of the river, tucking the fur quilt around him more firmly.

“There.” Tony says, after getting Loki settled. Loki gave Tony a small smile, clutching the quilt around him.

“I’ll be fine. Show me how you ‘fish.’” Loki said the word so dismissively he could almost sense the challenge in Loki’s tone.

“You don’t think I can do it, huh?” Tony asks, and Loki gives the faintest hint of a chuckle.

“As the people of your world would say, put up or shut up.”

Oh. Oh he’d teach him. Tony tugged an arrow from his quiver and pointed it at Loki.

“When we’re eating fish tonight I’m going to remind you how much of a bitch you were about it.”

“Keep talking. I have yet to be impressed.” Loki tells him with a calm look, still smiling.

Tony rolls his eyes and heads over to the river. He crouches down low, waiting for a fish to come by. He spots one coming by, takes careful aim…

Inhale. Exhale.

And swears loudly when his arrow sinks beneath the water a moment too late. His fish panics and swims away, and Loki doesn’t bother to stifle a laugh.

“Please tell me that was not our dinner, Anthony.”

“Shut up.” Tony replies, grabbing his arrow from the mud and returning to his crouch.

After three or four more tries, and Loki laughing gleefully at each miss, Tony’s beginning to get frustrated. He was a genius, dammit. He’d never had this kind of trouble with it before. What the hell was the difference now? Was it Loki? Was Loki making him miss? How could that be?

“Your arrow’s getting away…” Loki says, in a light hearted, sing song tone. Tony glances over at the arrow which was now making its way down stream. With a sigh, Tony trudges into the water to grab it before it floated out of the perimeter.

Once he has his arrow back, he heads back to the river bank, crouching down low in the mud again, and waiting.

Loki cleared his throat. “Try aiming slightly underneath the creature.” He advised, and Tony wants to swear again, but he holds his tongue. The next time he looses an arrow, he hits his prey.

Loki claps slowly as Tony walks out into the water to collect the still wriggling fish. He’s too embarrassed to say anything, wondering how on earth he could have forgotten that. That’s how he’d caught the fish before, after all. Tony lays the impaled fish in the grass next to Loki’s blanket.  
  
“Smart ass.” He says.

“You’re welcome.” Loki replies.

He catches a few more fish this way, bringing the impaled creatures back to Loki’s side, leaving them nearby where the man can keep an eye on them while Tony hunted. Loki didn’t have much else to say after that, watching Tony sleepily from the safety of his fur quilt. He was asleep by the time Tony had finished up, remaining unmoving while Tony cleaned and dried himself as best as he could. He then picked Loki up, bringing him back to the cabin first, before coming back to bring in the spare blanket and the caught fish.

Loki’s mind was gone again when Tony woke him up to eat, but Tony planned on telling him that he’d loved the fish and begged for more when he became lucid again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely sure I like this chapter either. But next chapter is what I'm really good at: Breaking everything and everyone. :D
> 
> Also, I feel like we're approaching the half-way mark with this story. The whole thing, when finished, will be around 26,000 to 30,000 words. I still have two or three scenes left to write and edit, but otherwise it's mostly done.
> 
> Not awful for a really lazy writing exercise. I guess. Lol.
> 
> Catch me at:
> 
> a-dangerous-sociopath.tumblr.com
> 
> hellscomingwithme.deviantart.com


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony does something awful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the dubious consent scene I put the warning up for. It could probably be skipped, if that's the kind of thing that bothers you.

The next few days were awful for the both of them. Loki’s condition is getting worse rather than better like the god had hoped. Loki can no longer keep down anything more solid than the potato mush Tony cooked, and sometimes he even has trouble swallowing that. Cool water from the river now has a tendency to upset his stomach further, so Tony’s taken to heating it up so that it’s lukewarm before giving it to him. Loki’s mind seems already gone now, unable to really communicate with Tony anymore. But, there are moments.

Loki’s head is hanging over the side of the bed. He hadn’t eaten anything recently, so there was nothing for him to throw up, but that didn’t stop his body from heaving painfully, his stomach wrenching itself apart without purpose. His body seemed just as confused as his mind did; trying to fight against something it was powerless to stop.

Tony was sitting nearby, running his fingers through the hair at the back of Loki’s neck, trying to soothe the shudders that tore at the frail man’s body.

When the spasms finally ceased, Loki pulled back from the edge of the bed, wiping helplessly at his mouth with the back of his hand. When he spoke up, Tony couldn’t tell if Loki was speaking with clarity, or through the fog of illness, and it took him a moment to translate.

“I think… Some nights…” Loki said softly, trying to work the words past a throat that no longer wanted to work. “I just didn’t want to be alone.”

Tony pauses in his ministrations as Loki looks to him. Loki was a man who had lost everything. Literally, everything, right down to his dignity, sanity, and health. This small cabin was not the kingdom he had come to preside over, and Tony was nowhere near the family he had lost. When Tony turned to lock eyes with the other man, Loki seemed… Frightened.

“Loki?” he asks. “What are you talking about?”

Loki gently shakes his head. Tony doesn’t need an answer anyways. He knows.

Tony watches Loki closely for a moment, before he takes a hold of the god’s shoulder, pushing him around so that he’s lying on his back. Loki continues to watch him, albeit a bit nervously, as Tony begins to pull back the fur quilt.

Tony’s not sure if he’s angry right now. It’s a little hard for him to be when his once enemy’s on death’s door. Mostly he just feels irritated, maybe slightly confused. He wants to ask the god why, why him, why bring him here, why drag Tony into death with him, but he can’t work any of these questions out. Instead, he drags Loki into a kiss. Loki tenses underneath him, putting a hand on his shoulder as if to push him away. Tony waits, but the motion never comes. Taking that as the permission he needs, Tony decides to take things further.

Loki feels brittle beneath him, glass-like, as though the fragile man beneath him might shatter if he wasn’t careful. Loki would be irritated to hear it, proud as he was, but he was in no real position to argue. It was the man’s pride that was getting them both killed out here anyways, so why shouldn’t Tony have one last fling at the god’s expense?

Loki spreads his legs far too easily, wraps his lips around Tony’s fingers when he’s prompted, and clutches Tony’s shirt when the man slides first one finger, then the other inside of him. Loki’s tight, too tight for spit to be any kind of a lubricant, but it’s all they have out here. Loki makes a small, whimpering kind of sound, but it doesn’t quite sound pained, so Tony doesn’t stop.

Entering Loki was nearly uncomfortable, to the point where Tony began to wonder if maybe Loki had never done this before. It was possible, Loki didn’t seem like the guy who’d bend over for someone else, to give himself up to domination. Loki watches Tony through hazy eyes, green eyes dulled from his long illness, and, he hoped, arousal.

Loki stays soft throughout the entire ordeal, probably doesn’t have enough blood in his entire body to get an erection going, but Tony brushes his hands over it anyways, because it causes Loki’s head to tilt backwards and a moan to escape his lips, and his ass to clench around Tony deliciously, so Tony continues to pump Loki in time with his thrusts. When Tony leans over to bite at Loki’s neck he pulls another of those delectable moans from the god’s throat, and this time Tony echoes him, picking up the pace of his thrusts.

When he reaches the brink of his orgasm he swears he can feel the world rocking with them, the bed swaying as he comes inside the god beneath him. Loki squirms underneath him, shaking hands clenching tightly to the shirt Tony never bothered to take off.

His post-orgasmic haze is interrupted when Loki yanks on his shirt suddenly, looking up to him with eyes that clearly say he doesn’t know who he’s looking at right now.

“Thor?” Loki asks, and it’s just weird enough for Tony to shiver in disgust and pull out, collapsing beside the other man on the bed. Tony knows the man’s fallen back into his daze and is completely delusional, but it still stirs up this strange feeling of guilt, particularly while Loki continues to frown at the ceiling, as though someone was still up there to stare back at him.

Thor would absolutely murder him if he ever found out what he just did, he thinks to himself, as Tony sinks into the blankets next to Loki, pulling the fur quilt up and over him again.

“No one’s here, Loki. Go back to sleep.” Loki obediently curled up on his uninjured side, which, coincidentally, was facing Tony. Loki’s sleeping, child-like face was in no way helping to ease Tony’s guilt, so the man pushed out of bed, grabbed his bow and arrows, and killed way more jack rabbits than they strictly needed for their dinner, considering Loki couldn’t eat them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kept it short and sweet. Want to punch me for fucking this story up? Come fight me at
> 
> a-dangerous-sociopath.tumblr.com
> 
> hellscomingwithme.deviantart.com


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally time for them to leave.

It was the third glass of water Loki had thrown up that day, no matter what Tony did to it, and Tony couldn’t stifle a loud scream of frustration as he threw the glass against the wall of the cabin. Loki didn’t even have the strength to flinch. It wouldn’t be long now, and they both knew it. Cruelly, these past few hours Loki had been in perfect clarity, aware of his surroundings and aware of his intense pain, as the poison devoured what little bit of flesh was left of him. Tony tried to force himself to calm down, acutely aware that part of him was going slightly hysterical, but it was hard. He’d been fighting for Loki’s life for so long, he’d worked so hard, and nothing he did had mattered at all. Tony didn’t believe in the no-win scenario. He rejected that bullshit back when he’d first met Steve. But right now he truly felt lost. He had nothing, nothing to fix this, nothing to cure Loki, nothing to even fix his wounds properly, and the idea that he could have fixed it, could have saved Loki so easily had the man not been so fucking stubborn tore at him.

Losing Loki felt like a major failing on his part, especially after what he’d done. The worst part of it was that the longer this dragged out, the weaker Loki got, the more irritated and angry Tony became with his charge.  Logically, he knew Loki couldn’t help it. On the other hand, neither of them would be stuck there if he hadn’t brought them there in the first place.  Tony tries not to think about it too much, because when he does, his temper flares and he has to leave, and the last thing he wants is to let Loki die alone.

One of the smallest mercies they’d received was that, Loki seemed to have no memory of the incident.  Selfish as it was, Tony was grateful; he had no desire to hash out what happened, to try and explain his actions to the other man. He wasn’t quite sure he understood them himself. He’d been so angry… he’d wanted to hurt the man. No matter the reason, there was just no excusing what he’d done.

They’d discuss it, Tony tells himself, if they survive this.

It takes Tony a minute to hear the small voice calling his name, the soft voice shaking him from the dark turn his thoughts had taken. Loki’s hand scrabbled weakly against the sheets, trying to get Tony’s attention without straining himself. Tony came over, snatching up that pale wrist, holding it gently as Loki tried to speak, his mouth and throat so dry at this point that it had to have hurt like hell.

“I never meant for this.” Loki finally gets out, fingers curling delicately around Tony’s palm. “I don’t want to take you with me...”

Tony knows exactly what he’s talking about, and squeezes Loki’s wrist a little too tightly.          

“Why are you doing this? What are you trying to prove?” Tony practically growls in his ear. “Let me go back. Let me help you. There’s still time.”

“I can’t…” Loki says, tone distressed until a cough begins to wrack his body, and Tony has to bite his tongue until it bleeds to keep from screaming again. “I don’t have the strength to bring us both.” Loki places his unoccupied hand flat on the bed, as though he meant to try and push himself up, but they both knew that he couldn’t.

“But I can _save_ you! I know I can.” Tony pleads with the man again. “Just give me the chance. Do you really want to die this badly?”

“What’s the point?” Loki asked bitterly, and something in Tony just snaps. All the stress, all the frustrations, everything in him finally boiled over.  Tony grabs Loki’s thin shoulders, yanking the man up and shaking him, even as Loki’s face twisted in pain and he struggled to push him away.

“Look, you told me yourself that you didn’t want to be left alone, and now that you aren’t you’re going to be a jackass and throw everything away? Fuck you!” Tony shouts.

“Stark, please, you’re…”

“No you fucking listen, and then you get us the fuck out of here because I am done with this shit, do you understand me?” Tony says, pressing Loki back into the mattress. “For the last five weeks I’ve nursed you, I’ve cleaned your wounds, drained infections, walked you back and forth to the goddamn pisser. Why the fuck do you think that is? So I sit here listening to you bitch about how tough the world is? Because I’ve got news for you…” Tony finally releases Loki’s shoulders, pulling back because he honestly fears he may hurt Loki if he doesn’t.

“I did it because one of these days, when they finally do shove me in a box and stick me in the ground, which, by the way, is NOT going to be today, the last thing I want any of those assholes to say is, ‘oh, poor Tony Stark; it is such a shame that he gave up!’” Tony says, mimicking their imagined voices as obnoxiously as possible.

Loki stares at him quietly, before glancing down at the hand he’s left flat against the surface of the bed. He closes his eyes, and it pulls a gasp from Tony, as the rush of Loki’s magic is forced from his chest. He collapses to the bed, clutching at the side. He can’t speak, can’t get a word out, until Loki pushes something towards him. It’s the arc reactor, clutched tightly in a fragile hand. It looks a bit different, sure, with wires pulled out here and there, the glass cover removed, but it’s there, and functional. The rest of the damage could be fixed later, when they both weren’t dying and they could discuss what’d been done to it.

Tony doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the small device and tears open the shirt he’s wearing. When he inserts the reactor he presses his forehead against the mattress, feeling the pulse of it as it begins to whir inside his chest. He lets out a sigh of relief, glancing up at Loki, who watches him curiously.

“You live your life as though you have some kind of a vendetta, Stark.” Loki says softly. “It would be a shame for you to die too.”

Tony places his hand over his arc reactor, feeling it’s warmth for a minute while he gathered his bearings. When he has his wits about him again, Tony moves to Loki, pulling the fur quilt up and tucking Loki in it as best as he can. To his surprise, Loki tries to push him away, struggling.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Loki gasps, as Tony lifts the god into his arms.

“What, did you think that once I had this I was going to leave you here to die? I don’t think so. I’m not letting you off that easy. You’re coming with me, and we’re finding a cure.”

“Stop. Tony! It’s too late for that...” Loki protests weakly, but Tony has too tight of a grip on him. He has absolutely no intention of leaving Loki here to die alone.

“Really, Loki? Really? Don’t you know me better by now?”

“Stubborn fool.” Loki hisses, before the strain of resisting becomes too much, and he buries his face in Tony’s shoulder. But since that’s the most emotion Tony’s gotten from Loki in weeks, Tony counts himself fortunate.

He has no idea how far the walk back to civilization was going to be, but Loki was terrifyingly light in his arms, and he knew how to contact people who could help him, if he could just get to a phone, any phone. He hoped they were in a part of the world where pay phones were still a thing.

He stepped out onto the dirt path he’d seen Loki take so many times, and began to look for help. And a few steps over his perimeter he discovered all of his worries from before were pretty much moot. He suddenly found himself back in New York, looking up at his own tower, from across the street.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Tony whispers to no one, as he turns to look around. There was no sign at all of the cabin, no more forest, no river; nothing but a bus stop, and one particularly frightened old man who stared at him as though he’d just seen a ghost. And who the hell knew? Here was Tony Stark, public figure that had been missing for months, suddenly stepping out of a poster in a bus stop across the street from the tower. Maybe he did think he was seeing a ghost.

Tony glanced to Loki to ask him, “Really? All this time we’ve been forty feet from my tower and I could have just walked across the street and just replaced the arc reactor with the older model the entire time?” But naturally, Loki was unconscious, so his snark was going to have to wait.

“Sorry for disturbing you, I’ll just get out of your hair, here…” Tony says, stepping easily off of the bench and beginning to head across the street.

“Um… Do you maybe need an ambulance? For your friend?” The poor, startled man begins to ask him. Tony just shrugs him off.

“Naw, this pain in the ass is all mine. I wouldn’t wish him on anybody.  Don’t worry about it, you didn’t see anything!” Tony assures the confused man, before finally, finally heading home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one came out late... I needed to take a personal day. Five hours at the salon, my hair looks fabulous, I can go back to pretending I can write again, lol.
> 
> One of these days I ought to come back and try to flesh this story out a bit more. That day isn't going to be soon, I have other projects I'd like to play with first, and I just want this fucking thing done.
> 
> Come play with me at one of my other personal sites!
> 
> a-dangerous-sociopath.tumblr.com
> 
> hellscomingwithme.deviantart.com


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, fixing what was broken isn't quite as straightforward as it should be.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, sir.” The pleasant tone of his AI chimes in as Tony enters the penthouse suite, looking mostly as he left it. Tony shifts Loki against him, heading towards the guest room.

“Missed you too, JARVIS. Could you tell me what the date is today?”

“August the 22nd, sir.” Tony whistles loudly, as he lays the god down on the spare bed.

“So I’ve been gone almost three months.” Tony says aloud to himself, as he begins to tug the fur quilt from Loki’s form. He keeps Loki lying on top of it for now, since he wasn’t keen on getting blood on the sheets, and the fur quilt he’d made had already been through hell, so it was no huge loss.

“Hey JARV, is Bruce around?”

“Mr. Banner is on the 5th level of the R & D floors.”

“Great! Page Bruce up here, and tell him to bring a first aid kit or something up here. Don’t let on to any of the others that I’m back yet.” Tony instructs, as he heads out of the guest room to search for a pair of scissors. He pauses in the doorway, then, having a sudden afterthought.

“Oh, and JARVIS? Order a pizza. You know the place. With everything on it, and extra cheese.” He commands, before resuming his search.

By the time he gets a sharp enough pair, Bruce is coming down the hallway practically at a run, nearly running into Tony as he does.

“Whoa, Bruce, calm dow-“

“Tony, what the hell is going on?” Bruce demands, looking him over. “I just now got the news from JARVIS, are you hurt?”

Tony shakes his head, putting his hands on Bruce’s shoulders, trying to calm the man down.

“It’s fine. I’m fine, Bruce.”

“We were starting to think you were dead, then JARVIS pages me out of nowhere, telling me to bring medical supplies…” Bruce tells him softly, and damn, Tony didn’t think the guilt he’d felt from the ‘Loki incident’ from a few days before could actually feel any worse, but there it was. Good old Banner, proving him wrong.

“I’m fine, Bruce. Really. But I needed you to help someone else.”

Bruce gives him a confused look, but he follows Tony into the guest room. He hangs back in the doorway, eyes going wide at what he sees.

Tony snaps his fingers in front of Bruce.

“Banner. My friend. Your patient is right here.”

Bruce glances from the bed back to Tony, gaze burning with all the questions he obviously wants to ask. Tony gives him a sigh.

“Tony… That’s Loki.”

“Astute observation, Sherlock. He’s also dying, so if we could just get this show on the road…”

“What is Loki doing here?” Bruce asks, waving a hand at the deeply unconscious god.

“Look… I don’t know what you’ve heard, but yes, Loki’s the one who kidnapped me. But it’s okay, because I’m here and now he’s here and he really needs your help because he’s been like this for five weeks and…”

“I don’t know…”

“Please? You’d be doing me a huge favor, I mean.” Tony clenches his fists. “I’ve been working for over a month to try and save him. I’ve been working my ass off and nothing I’ve done is helping. Well, I’ve been in a cabin for three months, so I haven’t been able to treat him properly. But he’s dying now, and I really, really can’t let that happen, so please, I am begging you to help me. You’re the only person I trust with this.” Tony pleads, clasping his hands together.

Bruce lets out a put upon sigh, hopefully because Tony’s his best friend and as his best friend he knows he can’t deny him anything, and not because Tony’s stressing him out significantly more than usual and he is considering hulking out.

“Fine.” Bruce finally mumbles, approaching the unconscious God. “Tony, start cutting those filthy rags off of him.”

“On it.” Tony says, holding up the pair of scissors for Bruce to see, as he approaches the god and begins cutting off the bloodstained rags.

Bruce’s eyes go wide as the extent of the damage is revealed to him.

“Jesus Christ, Tony.” Bruce breathes out, as he surges forward to start checking over the man’s vitals. “He shouldn’t even be breathing…”

“It gets worse.” Tony admits, as he pulls off rags and tosses them in the trash bin, thinking to incinerate them later.

“How could it possibly get any worse?” Bruce demands, as he searches for a pulse, finding it weak against his fingertips as he glances at his watch.

“He was poisoned. The way Loki explains it, that’s what’s been keeping him from healing.”

Bruce swears under his breath. “I’m going to have to go get some equipment out of the lab. Don’t go anywhere.”

Tony continues working, slowly unveiling more and more of the damage, as Bruce heads back out of the room to gather what he needs.

The next few hours are mostly touch and go. Between the two of them, they’re able to bind his wounds and get Loki properly stitched up, broken limbs set, and the man mostly stabilized. Mostly. There was still the problem of the damage the poison had done. Bruce gathers what he needs from Loki, various tissue and fluid samples, and gets them ready to take to the lab for testing.

Finally, Bruce looks to Tony, snatching the scissors from his hands and pushing him out of the chair he’s sitting in.

“Get of here, get a shower, and call Thor. Actually, get Thor on the line for me first.” Bruce says, and Tony can’t help the extreme unease he feels at that. He wasn’t sure how he could face Thor after everything that had happened. It was difficult enough to try and keep eye contact with Loki.

“Yeah. Uh, why does he need to be here for this, again?” Tony asks.

“Because Thor’s his brother, he needs to at least know that Loki’s here.” Bruce tells him, making a face that tells him that this is information that should be obvious. “Frankly, if he makes it through the night, I’ll be shocked.” Bruce adds bluntly.

Something cold and heavy settles in Tony’s stomach as he hears that.

“But, I promised him if he came back with me I’d make sure he survived.” Tony protests. “I can’t let him die. Not now…”

“Tony, there’s nothing for you to do right now.” Bruce replies gently. “Once we figure out what the poison is and what it’s doing to him, I’ll need you again, but in the meantime, get Thor on the phone, and get a shower.”

Tony sighs.

“Fine. I’ll get the damn thunder god on the phone. But before I go, you have to promise me that Loki’s not going to die. I’m pretty sure my honor depends on this now.”

“Tony, what are you talking about?” Bruce asks. “What happened while you were gone? Did Loki hurt you?”

Tony freezes up at that, looking up to Bruce guiltily, as though the man _knew_. He could read nothing but concern on that face, and that hurt, in some unspeakable way. Bruce was worried over the wrong person.

“Nothing.” Tony replies, trying to wave him off.

“Tony…”

“No. Stop.” Tony says, moving to run a hand through his hair. “I haven’t even been home for more than a few hours; I’m not discussing this now.”

Bruce’s shoulders drop, watching him carefully while Tony collects himself. Finally he looks up, catching Bruce’s intent gaze on him. “I’m fine.” He insists.

“I’ll meet you in the lab in a few hours. You’re right, I could use a shower, something to eat.”  Tony reaches out, clapping Bruce on the shoulder as he passes the man by. Tony couldn’t get out of that room fast enough.

~

Tony wipes his hand over his forehead, frowning at the results on the 3D display. Bruce hovered quietly behind him, gently wiping the dust from his glasses with the edge of his button down shirt. He looked a bit disheveled, but was saved from Tony teasing him by the simple fact that, if Bruce was looking rumpled, Tony looked worse. Tony had been awake since returning home from that cabin, about 36 hours ago, and Bruce was close behind that, if not for the two hour catnap the man had stolen. That had been a long time ago now. They were both dragging now.

“I don’t think it’s going to happen, Tony. Not like how you want it.” Bruce says, settling his glasses back over his nose. “Loki was right. We can’t cure it. We don’t have the right materials, not on this planet.”

“I told him I’d save his life, find a cure.” Tony says, waving him off dismissively. “I just need more time…”

“You don’t have any more time.” Bruce says pointedly. “Our only other option…”

“Not acceptable.” Tony cuts him off. The idea just didn’t sit right with him. It felt like he’d broken his promise. Hell, he had broken his promise. He couldn’t give up on this, not yet.

“Unacceptable to whom? To you?” Bruce asks, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone. “If it keeps him alive, what does it matter? A lot of people live like this without it affecting their quality of life…”

“He’ll be stuck here.”

“Not necessarily.” Bruce argued gently. “The only other alternative we have is to let him die. Unless you can come up with another idea in the next five minutes, this is what I’m giving to him.” Bruce says, gesturing to the batch of syringes on the table.

“He can’t wait much longer, and you know it.”

Tony scrubs at his face in frustration. He can practically feel the vein on the side of his head throbbing. He was so tired…

“Fine.” He says, angrily, scrapping the project in front of him that he knows wouldn’t have worked anyways.

He feels Bruce’s strong hand on his shoulder then, a firm, comforting weight, and Tony can’t help relaxing into the touch.

“He’ll be alright.” Bruce whispers.

“He’s not going to be happy.” Tony replies, crossing his arms over his chest, now that he has nothing else to do with them. He can practically feel Bruce shrugging behind him.

“How many people do you think are happy to hear news like that? Think diabetics like hearing that their way of life has changed?” Bruce asks. “Life isn’t fair, and some of us have the odds stacked against us too heavily. All we can do is try to make things a little easier.”

Bruce gives Tony’s shoulder a squeeze, gently pushing the other man to his feet.

“Go to bed. I’ll give him the first injection.” Bruce pauses. “When’s Thor getting here?”

Ah, Thor. The very last person Tony wanted to think about. “Soon, probably.” Tony shrugs. “I got a hold of Jane a while back. He’s coming from New Mexico; she didn’t say how he was getting here.”

“I’ll handle him.” Bruce says. “Go get some sleep.”

Now that sounded like a great idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I think I can't rest easily without making at least one person sad.
> 
> a-dangerous-sociopath.tumblr.com
> 
> hellscomingwithme.deviantart.com


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's a difficult patient to look after.

Thor’s big hand nearly swallows the bottle of pills, as the man frowns at the little tiny white tablets inside. He gives the bottle an experimental shake, and Tony reaches out with a wince, as though to stop him from crushing the “cure.” It had taken them a while to calculate the correct dosage and synthesize the pills, and while Tony knew he could do it again, easily, he didn’t think he’d have the time to work on it more before Loki woke up. Which he was scheduled to do any minute now.

Thor’s not so dull, though, as he carefully sets the bottle back into Tony’s hands. Thor had been there for a few hours, had arrived while Tony had been asleep in his own room.  His plan had been to avoid Thor entirely, and wouldn’t have entered the room at all if Bruce hadn’t made him so he could finally catch a nap himself. So far it hadn’t been too bad, though. Thor had been too concerned over his adopted brother to ask Tony too many questions about his captivity, which was fine with him, as he had yet to break his self-imposed silence over the debacle.

“Strange, that these small things would be the key to keeping Hel’s grasping hands from sweeping my brother into the abyss.” Thor says with a frown.

“Life is strange and beautiful that way sometimes.” Tony says with a shrug, as he places the bottle onto the nightstand by Loki’s head. He takes a second to glance at the unconscious man on the bed. Already, without even a full day on Bruce’s serum, and the deity already looked to have some color back in his cheeks, and his injuries were actually starting to heal. Loki had yet to waken, however, and he slept deeply, as though comatose. No one felt any urgency to wake him up, so Loki remained in that state for quite some time. Bruce insisted that this was normal, so they would allow it, for now.

Thor snorts, clearly unimpressed with Tony’s use of the phrase.

“I do not understand how this is meant to keep him alive.” Thor admits. Tony takes a deep breath.

“Like I told you before, it’s not a cure. It suppresses symptoms, and gives your brother the boost his body needs to continue to function.” Tony explains, using layman’s terminology. He isn’t sure that Thor would understand if he started throwing a lot of complicated medical terms at him. Not that he thought Thor couldn’t understand, after a fashion, but he knew the terms were difficult for most people with no medical background, so he tried not to throw them around casually.

“So, whenever he wakes up, which should actually be pretty soon, we’re going to have to teach him how to take these, get him started with a routine. He can’t be skipping doses here and there because that would really hurt him.” Tony explains further.

Thor scratches at his beard, obviously unhappy, and Tony doesn’t blame him.

“What do we do when he runs out of those?” Thor asks.

“You come to me and I make more.” Tony says simply.

“So, he’s going to be like this for the rest of his life?” Thor asks, looking to Tony, eyes wide, and it bruises Tony to see the open sadness beneath them.

“Until we can find a cure.” Tony corrects, because he won’t let himself belief that it’s over yet. He still has next to no information on what that poison was, but the damage it did to Loki’s unique physiology was visible. Irreversible, so far as he and Bruce could tell. Without the medication, wounds on Loki’s body refused to heal, his magic slowly crippled, his immune systems rebelled, making him sickly and weak until he finally withered away. Even still, Tony refused to think that Loki couldn’t be saved, that he’d be stuck in this rigid schedule for the rest of his life, (and Thor had assured him, that could be a very, very long time.)

Thor considers all of this information thoughtfully, before finally reaching out and grasping Loki’s limp hand.

“I have not had the chance to properly thank you; I understand that my brother’s given you little reason to, but I am grateful that you saved him.”

Suddenly, Tony feels vastly uncomfortable. He’s always kind of been bad at this sort of thing, when people try to show honest emotion around him it’s easier to shrug it off with a flippant remark than to actually take it with any kind of grace. But that’s not what’s making him squirm in his chair right now. It’s the thought of this man’s barely coherent brother writhing underneath him, long, pale legs trembling he slides between them, Loki watching him, face warped in something that could have been arousal, might have been pain, as Tony ruts into him. Loki didn’t actually have the ability to consent, and Tony was just that side of angry to not give a damn.

The fact that, when everything was said and done, Loki didn’t even recognize who he was, or have any kind of recollection of what they’d done, just made him feel worse. And yes, he did end up saving Loki’s life in the end, but that didn’t make up for what he’d done, not by a long shot.

Tony throws up a hand. “It’s nothing Thor. It’s really nothing.”

Tony pushes out of his chair, turning to leave before Thor can get it in his head to argue.

~

Tony went with Bruce when the man went to explain everything that’s happened to Loki, because the first thing he does when he wakes up is try to hurl the lamp at Thor. He misses, shattering the thing against a far wall, and promptly passes right back out. After clearing the nightstand of absolutely everything and repositioning it well out of Loki’s immediate reach, they wait patiently for the god to wake up again. Seeing Bruce sitting on the mattress close to his head puts Loki in a far better disposition. “Afraid of the Hulk” is a much better disposition than “angry and trying to murder you.”

For a change, Tony let Bruce do the talking. Trying to explain Loki’s new regimen doesn’t go quite the way he expected. He’d thought the god would have gotten angry, screamed, or try to throw him out of another window. Instead, Loki’s uncomfortably quiet, starring at the bottle in his hands, examining the pills with a look on his face that was completely neutral. He didn’t look mad, or sad, or even remotely upset. He cradled the yellow bottle in both hands, and nodded as Bruce gets through his explanation of the medication and what it does.

At the end of it, Loki’s too exhausted to do anything else, so Bruce tucks him in, and gives him his last shot before taking his leave. Tony follows after, because the picture Loki makes on that bed is too close, too close to all those times he found Loki like that before, and it hurts him, a bit unexpectedly.

Outside, Thor is hovering a bit anxiously, so Tony grabs his arm and shows him to the master bedroom not far from Loki’s room, intending to let him sleep there for the time being.

Tony spends the night in his lab, updating the suit and making routine repairs until he passes out on one of the many work tables, and those few blissful hours are all the sleep he gets that night.

~

Tony and Bruce made up a schedule for Loki to follow; he takes one of the pills before every meal, which for now, is scheduled at 7:30, noon, and 6:00. And Bruce is very, very insistent that Loki has his meals at those specific times, because the idea is that if Loki becomes accustomed to eating three times a day, and taking his pill right before that, it will become an ingrained habit. You go to eat, you take your medication. People generally have three meals a day, so that makes it easier for Loki to remember when to take his pill. Then if there are days when he’s not particularly hungry, he’ll at least remember to take his medication, he gets the correct dosage, and everyone wins. It seemed incredibly simple.

Or it would be, if Loki hadn’t been refusing his pills and the food altogether.

It turned out, that Loki didn’t quite have Thor’s appetite, and his eating schedule apparently ranged from non-existent to whenever the fuck. Thor admitted that Loki’s eating habits were pretty limited to taking small snacks in his room and having a small evening meal when he felt like it. He was never one for the big luxurious feasts Asgardians seemed to favor, which would have been fine for a healthy person, but it completely blew Bruce’s plan to hell because now they not only had to train Loki to take his meds, but now they had to teach him to how to actually eat.

This was difficult, because shockingly, Loki didn’t seem to enjoy the protein heavy, low fat meals Bruce picked out for him, and he’d turned down absolutely everything Thor brought him, (assuming he’d talk to Thor at all.) Of course, this was assuming they could get Loki to take his pills in the first place, which was kind of the point if all this. Tony was purposely pretty oblivious to their struggles with Loki, having not visited Loki’s room since the man had woken up. The idea of going back still unsettled him, knowing what he’d done, combined with Thor’s complete trust in him turned his stomach. Besides, he had other things to occupy his time; running a multi-million dollar company helped to ensure that.

It wasn’t until Bruce came down to the lab about mid-day, looking a little green for Tony’s liking, his blood pressure so high you could take his pulse just by watching that twitching vein in his forehead, that Tony decided, enough. If Loki was cutting up to Bruce of all people, despite being terrified of him, then clearly it was time for an intervention.

On Tony’s way to Loki’s room he passed by Thor, sitting in the hallway outside Loki’s room, knees pulled up to his chest. Without his ridiculous armor and in civilian clothes, Thor looked like a depressed, shaggy golden retriever in need of a shave, and it takes all of Tony’s will power not to pat the man’s head in sympathy as he passes by. Thor barely acknowledges him as is, which is ringing some serious alarms in the engineer. He must have missed out on one hell of a fight.

Loki had kept it dark in the room ever since waking up, too weak to do much else than sleep for the moment. Tony thought he could understand that too. Just the week before Loki had been near death; it was going to be a while before he fully recovered. Still, this way he wasn’t making any progress, and even if they couldn’t restore Loki’s health to the way it was before, they could at least help him to live a normal life. Which, with Loki fighting his treatment wasn’t going to happen.

“JARVIS, lights 20 percent.” Tony calls out, the dim lights turning on just enough for Tony can see, and for Loki to let out a groan.

“What is it, Stark?” Loki croaks, his voice sounding pitiful from under the blanket. Oh good, so they’re back to this shit.

“Aw, what’s wrong? Last time we talked you seemed to like me, at least enough to not kill me.” Tony says, thinking back to that last conversation they’d had back in the cabin.

“I was dying, Stark, I was delusional.” Loki brushes him off too easily, and Tony can’t help a snort.

“Not always.” Tony notes. “Although calling me ‘mama’ was pretty damn hilarious, I just wish I had something to record it.”

“Yes, then my humiliation would nearly be complete, wouldn’t it?” Loki practically hisses, before pulling the blankets more firmly around him. “It’s not nearly enough that you’ve found a way to keep me in your thrall, is it?”

Tony just barely manages to keep from rolling his eyes.

“Are you trying to be stupid here, because I am seriously not in the mood.” Tony snaps, searching the room for his chair. He grabs the oversized one that Thor’s been camping out in for the past week and pushes it towards the bed.

“Oh, of course I am being purposely obtuse, just to fray your fragile nerves.” Loki replies. Tony doesn’t hold back the eye roll this time, reaching out to yank back the blankets from covering his face. Loki lets out a groan, turning his face into the pillow to hide instead.

“First of all, it’s not like that. We couldn’t devise a cure in time to save you. This was the best solution we could devise before you bled to death.” Tony says, releasing the blankets so that they’re now hanging low, covering Loki’s hips. Dressed in the thin, green paper gown, Loki is still mostly skin and bones, but those bones are well on their way to healing, as are the many open wounds he’d sustained. Compared to how he looked when he first arrived, it was a major improvement.

“What is it like, then? You promised me a cure, Stark. I had been ready to face my end, and then you dragged me back here, and devised a system that would keep me forever in servitude to you, if I should wish to continue living.” Loki growls low, shakily pushing away from the bed, limbs weakly, slowly complying with the stress he’s putting on them.

“And tell me Stark, would I, under your ‘care,’ continue to live as I chose? You would allow me to do as I wished, whether to cause chaos, to crush your pathetic people under my…”

“Okay, I get the picture.” Tony sighs, rubbing his temple.

But Loki isn’t finished. “I will never have my full strength return. My magic will always be crippled. And the best part, is if I skip just one of the doses you’ve so generously provided for me,” and Loki’s voice becomes a sneer here, “I will become very sick, and possibly risk death, so assured me by your Doctor Banner!” Loki says in an accusatory tone.

“Loki…”

“Tell me how this is better!” Loki demands, his voice growing much softer. Like this he sounds like a scared child; helpless, insecure. “Explain to me why living like this is better than dying alone in that cabin.”

Tony smoothes a hand over his face, thinking over everything he said, because he couldn’t answer that question. He knew the answer for himself, when he had escaped that cave. He had friends waiting for him back home. He had a drive to correct the wrongs he’d committed due to his own ignorance, a drive to make things better. What could he say the answer was for Loki? He had no love for his family; if he had friends Tony knew nothing about them. He was being hunted by the army he’d betrayed, God only knows what SHIELD would do to him if they got their claws in him, and he was facing living the rest of his life in constant pain or sickness, if he didn’t conform immediately to Tony and Bruce’s demands.

Tony knew he had absolutely no leverage in this argument, because he couldn’t give Loki a reason to live. Loki had to find that reason for himself. Tony’s entire job right now was to make sure Loki lived long enough to find it, and he felt woefully under qualified for it.

“I don’t think I can give you the answer you’re looking for.” Tony says, and it nearly breaks his heart to see Loki’s face fall into anguish at that.

“But here’s what I know.” Tony quickly amends, and he reaches out to grab Loki’s arm, before he can grab the blankets and burrow himself in them again.

“I’ve spent the last three and a half months of my life with you. At least the last five weeks, I have spent watching you suffer, and though I know you’ve fucked up a lot of things, I can get no pleasure from seeing you like this. When I saw you at your lowest, I didn’t turn away. I’ve fought for your life, and promise to continue fighting. Right now, Bruce is working with me to find a cure, even though he has no reason to. Thor’s sitting out there right now, looking like Old Yeller right before they shoot him, because he’s spent the past few days worried sick over you.” Tony gives his arm a meaningful squeeze, then, keeping Loki’s attention when the man begins to look away.

“I know right now you think you have no reason to live. I know you probably think dying in that cottage in pain seems like it would have been the better choice. I don’t have the ability to change your mind. All I can do is show you what you do have, and try to get you to believe me when I say you do have a lot to live for, even if you can’t see it right now.”

Now Loki’s trembling in Tony’s hands, probably from the strain of keeping himself upright; Tony very much doubts it’s from anything he’s said today.

“Now… Let’s try this again. Bruce has brought you…” Tony looks back and sighs at the bowl of healthy looking gruel and orange juice sitting on the tray.

“I’ve got an idea. Let’s order out.” Tony says, looking back to Loki hopefully.

Loki gives a soft incline of his head, as close to consent as he’s willing to give. Tony could have cheered.

He ended up ordering a creamy potato soup and half sandwich from a local sub shop, which Loki got down admirably, even if he couldn’t come close to finishing it. It was good enough for Loki to take his pill, and everyone in the tower was happy for the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I work at a nursing home; I may or may not be unloading here hhrrnnnnnnnnnnnnnngg
> 
> I apologize severely
> 
> Want to hear me whine about my co-workers and patients? 
> 
> a-dangerous-sociopath.tumblr.com
> 
> hellscomingwithme.deviantart.com


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a patient will rally right before they crash.

A few days after Tony and Loki had the ‘talk,’ Loki was finally strong enough to leave his bed for a few hours at a time. It was still a while before Tony saw him again, still avoiding him as much as he can. Unsurprisingly, he was still feeling fairly awkward around Loki, and didn’t like to be alone with the man for too long. If Loki noticed his strange behavior, he made no mention of it.

The first time he saw Loki outside the guest room, Tony nearly, literally, ran into him in the hallway. Loki was taking careful steps down the hallway, leaning heavily against his brother. Tony wasn’t watching at all, running late to some official something or other with his company. He and Pepper were still on good terms even after the break up and the three month disappearance he’d done little to explain away. He’d been giving the poor woman a headache, and he owed her that much, to show up to at least one of these bullshit functions.

If it hadn’t been for Thor’s reflexes, using his arm around Loki’s waist to yank the man back, Tony wouldn’t have been able to stop in time to keep from slamming into him. Granted, it would have been an amazingly hilarious crash, and worth at least a dozen repeat viewings on _America’s Funniest Home Videos_ , but probably not a good idea considering at least one of them was near death a mere week before.

“Jesus.” Tony mutters, putting a hand over the arc reactor, something that had become a habit as of late when something startled him.

Thor frowns, shuffling his hold on his brother to place a hand on Tony’s shoulder, steadying him.

“Careful, my friend.” He gently admonishes him.

Tony nods. “Yeah, sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone out here…”

Thor shifts a bit, tightening his hold on his brother just slightly. Now that Tony’s finally getting a look at him outside of the dim room, he can really see the progress the other man has made. He still has an overall brittle look to him, but he’s no longer all skin and bones. His face has filled out some, his eyes no longer have that glossy, fevered look to them, and though he’s put most of his weight on Thor, he’s at least moving a bit on his own. These were all good signs.

Looking more closely, Tony sees that Loki is no longer dressed in that thin patient gown, but dressed in one of his old band shirts, a pair of jeans hanging loosely on his hips, probably provided him from Thor, from his own bedroom. Tony’s a tiny bit broader than the other man, but Loki’s tall and very skinny right now. Whenever Loki shifts just slightly, Tony gets flashed by Loki’s midriff. He has the thought that he has a sexy stomach and he gets hit with a flush of arousal, which he immediately has to tamper down because he is just not going there again. It was wrong the first time. He promised to keep Loki alive, to find him a cure, and now as he’s sitting there fighting the threat of the most awkward erection he’ll ever have, he has to make a third promise. To keep it in his pants long enough for Loki to get better and _get away_.

Tony clears his throat. “You two going out?” He asks, looking to them.

Thor shakes his head, blond hair bouncing softly. “No, I do not think that would be wise.”

Right. SHIELD still had no idea about any of this, and Tony knew they were watching. They needed to keep Loki in the dark as much as they could.

“I was going to take him into one of the other rooms, so that he can see the sunlight, and relax apart from his sickbed.” Thor continues.

“It was entirely at Thor’s insistence.” Loki adds quietly, giving his adopted brother a glare.

Thor gives him an exasperated look, which tells Tony that this was not the first time they’d talked about this. “It’s not healthy to confine yourself in the dark like that.”

“Thor, I was fine…”

“Christ, give it a rest.” Tony says, glancing to his watch. He really didn’t have the time to referee them right now. At least, with Loki being as sick as he has been, their arguments hadn’t come down to blows, and were mostly minor events. Thor was incredibly protective of his brother, especially after Tony told him about where the poison that crippled him came from.

“I apologize, Tony.” Thor says cordially. Loki says nothing.

“Naw, don’t be. I’m just running late. Hey Loki.” Tony says, finally drawing attention to where the shirt pulled away and bared his skin. Loki glances down, and self-consciously begins to tug the shirt down. It doesn’t do anything to cover him further, naturally.

“If you want, I could bring you something that fits a bit better?” He suggests softly.

Loki raises his eyes to Tony’s, and Tony dimly realizes that that’s the first time the two of them have made eye contact throughout the duration of this conversation. He wondered if it was because Loki was still feeling ill.

“That would be greatly appreciated.” Loki replies, in that same soft, barely understood tone.

Tony gives Loki a smile, clapping him on the back.

“I’ll find you something wearable.” Tony promises. He glances at his phone then, checking the time. “Damn. I’ve got to go. Don’t kill each other. Blood is ridiculously hard to get out of these carpets.” He says, eying each of the brothers in turn, before heading towards the elevator.

When Tony turns around to hit the keypad, he catches a very brief, but very small smile on Loki’s face, as the other man watches him leave. It melts quickly when Loki realizes he’s watching, as the man turns to join his brother in the living room.

~

It was a few days later when Tony next saw Loki. Tony was actually on the phone with Pepper when he noticed Loki wandering into the labs, looking for all the world like he belonged there. Tony’s eyes went widened and he paused, drawing out the word he was on as he tried to figure out what the hell the recovering god was doing. As he had felt it necessary, he’d purposely kept Pepper, along with SHIELD, the other Avengers, and the rest of the world in the dark about his current house guest. The only ones who knew were Thor and Banner. He didn’t want to think about the amount of red tape and general bullshit he’d have to if anyone else outside of their immediate circle knew, and Pep would probably strangle him if she knew, and he’d deserve it. So he bit his tongue, even as Pepper questioned his sudden silence, not trusting his tongue to not give him away just yet. He gaped as Loki went for one of the gadgets on his work top, a very expensive and delicate prototype that Tony had out in the hopes of working on it.

As Loki examined it, carefully turning it over in his grasp, Tony raised a hand to the ear piece he was wearing, finally speaking up.

“Pep, I’m gonna have to call you back…” He says, hanging up before she had a chance to protest. Tossing the earpiece aside, he walks up to Loki, who’s dangling his prototype a little too precariously for his taste.

“Well, you’re clearly feeling better.” he says, he says, walking up to Loki, intending to take the device back, only for Loki to pull it away, holding it just out of the engineer’s reach.

Tony frowned. “That’s really not funny.”

“Stark, you’re not a very good host.” Loki complains, keeping the gadget just out of reach.

“Loki, put that down.” Tony grouses. “Where the hell is Thor? Isn’t he on baby-sitting duty today?”

Loki gives Tony a small grin, holding the device just out of the man’s reach.

“I got rid of him for the day.” Loki replies, giving him a mischievous smirk.

“Oh great, so I get stuck with you then?” Tony grumbles, still trying to grab the device. His fingers just barely brush over it, and Loki raises it up higher. Tony sighs. If he pressed up against Loki’s chest he _might_ be able to reach it, but he damn well knew better than to actually try it. “Wait, I’m not going to find Thor dead behind the couch or something, right?”

“Stark, my magic and strength are still recovering; I assure you, Thor is quite safe from me.” Loki replies with a shrug.

“We’ll, isn’t that reassuring?” Tony replies drolly, looking to his device, still cradled precariously in Loki’s grip. “Hey, can I have that? It’s kind of import-“

“I’m bored, Stark.” Loki says, looking to Tony with a frown.

Tony blinks. “And?” He prompts.

“Amuse me.” Loki orders, looking to Tony expectantly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tony demands. “You’re bored? I’ve got work to do! Make your own fun!”

“Are you sure that’s what you want me to do, Stark?” Loki asks, voice lilting, making as though he intends to drop the device. “Make my own fun? Maybe the way you did while at my cabin…”

For a brief moment, Tony’s guts turn ice cold, thinking he’s referring to the sex, but when Loki tilts his head to the side, looking somewhat amused, Tony remembers.

“You mean my setting fire to your cabin? That’s different; you had nothing but junk in that dingy shack. This stuff’s complicated.”

“So…” Loki says slowly, frowning. “That makes it okay to break my stuff, But not yours?” Loki asks quizzically.

“Yes!” Tony groans, rubbing the palms of his hands over his eyes. The look Loki gives him for that answer tells him how very much the other man disagrees “Alright, fine. Put that down and I’ll find something to keep you entertained with.”

Loki does as requested, looking very smugly satisfied as Tony begins to escort him out of the lab.

Tony spends the next few hours getting Loki acquainted with some of JARVIS’ non vital systems, which he supposed was his version of plunking the hyperactive child on the couch and letting Uncle Television raise him for a few hours. He gives Loki access to the digital library, which he figures ought to keep him occupied for a little while. He also gives Loki limited Internet access, figuring things like Wikipedia and it’s satellites are relatively harmless and inaccurate anyways, so he can’t be tempted to do much damage with that.

Also out of curiosity, he shows Loki how to access his music library to see if the god would find anything he likes listening to that would keep him out of Tony’s hair for five minutes. He snorts when Loki stumbles across a Kamelot album and falls in love because doesn’t that just figure? Tony has JARVIS download their entire discography, and sets Loki up with a pair of high-quality headphones and lets the god alone to his own devices for the next few hours.

Later that evening, Tony realized it was getting fairly on in the evening, almost time for Loki to eat and take his pill. Since they were still trying to ingrain the habit of eating at a set time with taking the pills Tony didn’t want to be late. Bruce would kill him after the progress they’ve made, small though it was. So he cleans up to the bare minimum necessary to not offend his guest, and makes his way to the living area, where Loki’s curled up on the couch, tablet in one hand, using the other to browse through the digital pages as they flip by on the screen. He’s wearing the pair of very expensive headphones Tony gave him, the music turned up so loud that Tony can make out the lyrics to “The Great Pandemonium” from where he’s standing twelve feet away and Tony has to hold back a snort because of course he’d be listening to that.

Tony leans over the back of the couch, gently pushing aside one of the ear pieces. Loki doesn’t look up for a moment, seemingly taking a moment to realize its absence, before looking up to Tony expectantly.

“Yes…?” Loki asks after a fashion.

“Whatcha reading, Bambi?” Tony asks.

Loki stares at him blankly. “Are you talking to me?” He asks as the reference sails completely over his head.

“ _Battle Royale_.” Tony says, as he leans over Loki’s shoulder and reads the title for himself. “I don’t know what I was expecting.”

Loki raises an eyebrow at him, as though he somehow knew that Tony was mocking him and when he figured out how there’d be hell to pay, but for now he was going to let it go.

“I find the concept intriguing.” Loki replies, settling back into the cushion.

“You would. I’ve never read the book.” Tony admits, as he moves over to the bar to grab a beer. “But I have watched the movie. Damn good movie. Maybe after dinner we could watch it?” He offers, sneakily offering Loki incentive to eat, and not fight him too much on the idea.

Loki shrugs, moving to replace the ear piece. “I’m not in the mood.”

“C’mon. We’ll order whatever you want to eat. Anything in particular you’re craving?” He tries.

Loki rolls his eyes. “I have no preference.” He says, turning the next page on the tablet.

Tony brushes a hand over his chin, thinking it over.

“Chinese.” Tony decides for them both. Loki makes a dismissive noise that Tony takes for agreement. Loki’s appetite wasn’t quite what it could be, but he was making progress.

“If you insist.” Loki says, replacing the headphones and going back to his digital book.

Tony puts in his order in at one of his favorites, a place even Loki couldn’t turn his nose up at. He hoped, at any rate. Loki’s tastes seemed to be all over the place. Tony moves over to the couch, taking a seat by Loki’s feet.

“Hey, Loki, how are you…” Tony trails off, realizing that Loki’s cut him off again, headphones back in place and buried in his book. Tony waves a hand in front of the other man’s face, trying to get his attention. When that doesn’t elicit a response, he knocks one of Loki’s feet off of the couch, letting it hit the floor with a thud. Loki looks up from his tablet, shooting him an annoyed look before tugging the headphones down, resting them on his shoulders. The music continues to play, much louder to Tony’s senses now that the headphones weren’t being muffled.

“Can I help you? Anthony?” Loki says, tone hinting at his annoyance.

“Well, I was kind of thinking we could chat for a second.” Tony suggests quietly. He feels like he’s prodding an annoyed cobra with a stick, but he felt they needed to talk.

“Depends on the topic.” Loki answers, tapping his nails against the screen of the tablet.

Tony breathes out. He could keep this non-confrontational. He could!

“Well, try telling me about the medication.” Tony says, thinking that sounded like a good place to start. “I mean, you look a lot better. How are you feeling?” Tony says, gesturing towards Loki with his hand.

Loki glances down to his body, following the motion of Tony’s hand, then back up to him.

“It’s an improvement.” Loki concedes, pressing his hand flat to his own stomach. “But I still feel ill, whenever I take it.”

Tony frowns, pursing his lips in thought.

“Maybe your body’s still adjusting to it.” He suggests. “Give it some time.”

Loki chuckles mirthlessly. “What choice do I have?”

“Well, it _is_ an experimental drug.” Tony points out, looking to Loki. “There are other things we can do if your body doesn’t adjust to it. We can try to scale the dose back. Tweak the formula, a bit. There’s a lot we can do to fix it so you’re not feeling sick all the time.”

Loki doesn’t respond for a minute, still tapping his nails again against the edge of the tablet. Tony can sense the beginning of a nervous habit.

“In all of my years, I would have never predicted that this is how I’d end up living…”

“Hey. Stop.” Tony says, looking to Loki. “These are the kinds of problems that you want to have with a new medication. They’re easily fixed.”

“Right.” Loki replies irritably, looking back to the tablet. “What a privilege, to be the only one of my kind living like this. Dependent on a cure that also makes me sick.”

He sighs. “I’ve been told all my life that I am weak. What joy is mine that I should have lived to prove my detractors right.”

“You’re not weak.” Tony scowls. He sits up, tapping his arc reactor through his shirt. “Remember this?” He asks, the metallic sound catching the other man’s attention.

“This doesn’t make me weak. It makes me adaptable. Show me one other person who lives like this.” Tony says.

Loki stares at the area where the arc reactor lay under his shirt, his gaze very intent upon the device, to the point where it made Tony almost nervous. Maybe it was a bit soon for him to be calling Loki’s attention to it…

Finally, Loki snorts, looking away. “Tell me again when my medication can be used as a weapon.”

“Gimme like, fifteen minutes and I’ll get back to you.” Tony quickly replies. Loki gives him an almost amused look. Tony considered that progress.

Out of curiosity, he looks to Loki again, the question hanging on the tip of his tongue.

“Loki… What do you remember about the cabin?”

Loki looks to him, frowning.

“What an odd question.” He muses, looking to Tony. “Before or after I was…?”

“After.” Tony says, well aware that he’s probably pushing his luck.

Loki frowns, placing a hand over chin, rubbing his fingers over his lips as he thinks it over.

“Not much.” He admits. “I was so out of it, most of the time. I remember you caring for me…” He says, a gentle smile crossing his face, which weirds Tony out just a little to see.

“I remember watching you fish. Cooking.” He says, dropping his hand into his lap. “And I… I had a few very, very vivid dreams.”

Tony holds his breath, waiting for Loki to come to his own conclusions.

“Why, they had to have been fever dreams, they were so strange.” Loki says at last, looking up to Tony. “Some of them…”

Loki pauses then, eyes going wide. His hand slowly makes its way to his chin again, covering a surprised noise.  Tony watches Loki very carefully for a moment, his mouth dropping open as a flush of color rises to Loki’s cheeks. Loki casts his eyes to the side, suddenly unable to look Tony in the eyes.

“Are you _blushing_?!” Tony asks, almost shocked.

“Shut it, Stark, Loki says firmly, as he pulls the tablet up again, presumably to resume his reading, but probably just trying to hide from Tony’s shocked gaze. “If you’re quite finished-“

“Oh my **_god_** , you _are_!” Tony practically shouts, as he moves over to Loki, intending to push the tablet away and get a better look. Loki jerks himself to the side, trying to escape but Tony was in full asshole mode now, trying to grab at Loki’s wrists.

“C’mon, Loki, it’s not fair to hide like that when I’ve got the Asgardian version of Haley’s Comet staring me in the face! Literally! I’m not waiting another 75 years to see you embarrassed! That must have been a damn good ‘fever’ dream!”

“Get off of me!” Loki shouts, placing the palm of his hand over Tony’s face, clumsily pushing him away. “I swear if you don’t stop I will castrate you, so help me!”

JARVIS chimes in, announcing that the meal had arrived. And thank god, because while Loki’s magic may be currently neutered, Tony did not at all doubt that the god actually _could_ find a way to kill him. Possibly while he was sleeping.

Tony retrieves the food, and returns with several bags filled with various boxes of Chinese food, placing them out on the coffee table in front of the couch. Loki barely glances up from his tablet; face still burning pink from Tony’s teasing him.

“Chinese food.” Tony says, hoping to distract the man from his sulking for a moment. “I’m going to find something you like to eat if it kills me. And it might, if I get a heart attack from eating out so much I’m parking my apparition’s ass right next to you to haunt you for the rest of your life.”

The threat seems to fall on deaf ears, as Loki curls in on himself even further, trying to bury his face in his tablet. Tony couldn’t stop a laugh.

He grabs a couple of the boxes, pushing them towards Loki, and placing a pair of chopsticks on the top. He decides he’ll let the aroma of good food do all the convincing he needs to do, as he grabs a box of noodles for himself, sits down on the floor beside the coffee table. He opens his box and begins to dig in.

After a while, as he predicted, Loki lowers the tablet, looking over the arranged boxes on the table, and the paper sleeve containing his chopsticks.

“What is this?” He asks suspiciously, gingerly picking up the chopsticks.

“Those are your utensils.” He explains, between bites of noodles.

Loki removes them from the sleeve, examining them closely.

“Sticks.”

“No, chopsticks, you culturally deficient brat. You hold them like this…” Tony says, holding out his hand to show Loki how he had them positioned. “And you grab the food like this.” Loki watches him with a frown, as Tony plucks a piece of chicken from the box and pops it into his mouth.

“You try it. Uh, use your good hand.”

Loki gives him a look that tells him to shut up and stop treating him like an imbecile, and proceeds to fit the chopsticks into his uninjured hand. Once he gets it into position, as close to the way Tony was holding his, he begins to practice gripping the tools, when one of the sticks simply slides down the back of his hand and lands on the coffee table.

Tony laughed so hard he nearly caused himself to choke.

Loki frowns, picking up the fallen chopstick and trying again. After two more attempts Loki promptly drops the chopsticks and picks up a fork, much to Tony’s continued amusement.

“It’s okay, Bambi, it’s not for everyone.” Tony says teasingly, as he picks at his rice with his chopsticks.

Loki gives him a look. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid just because you can’t do it.”

Loki shakes his head, taking an angry bite out of a piece of chicken.

“I can do it. It’s just stupid and inefficient.”

“You’re just mad that you can’t do it.” Tony insists.

Loki gives him another steely glare, before picking up the chopsticks yet again. It takes him a full hour to get through the meal, making something of a mess out of the food, but Tony figures they can leave it for the maid to clean up later. Tony watches him gleefully from the other side of the table. But by the end of that hour, Loki does indeed know how to use the chopsticks. Afterwards, Tony slides Loki’s pill across the table, and Loki takes it without argument, swallowing it with some tea.

As promised, Tony plays _Battle Royale_ for Loki, the two of them sitting on opposite ends of the couch. Tony isn’t quite sure how they manage to pull it off, (Tony has a hard time sitting still for anything, and Loki seemed particularly fidgeting that evening,) but the night ends with Loki’s head resting against Tony’s shoulder, sound asleep, while the movie plays out in front of them. When Thor returns later that evening, he gently pulls his brother from Tony’s side and carries him to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to have a cute chapter to break up the angst okay ffs
> 
> Also I rushed the ending a little there but seriously this chapter's been such a pain in the ass for me I just wanted it done omfg
> 
> come fight me I'm at
> 
> a-dangerous-situation.tumblr.com
> 
> hellscomingwithme.deviantart.com


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reasons why Tony is not a good nurse number...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize ahead of time for this chapter, if it comes off a little bit weird or not up to par. I've been running a fever for the past day or so, and if I'm going to be completely honest, the only reason I'm posting it now is so I'll stop torturing myself with it and get in the damn shower.

Loki had been waking up for the past few mornings just feeling unwell. Which wasn’t really unexpected, the road to recovery was never straight. People had their setbacks, and Loki would be no exception. The problem was that these setbacks usually brought his morale down with it, and it was usually very difficult to bring him back up again. Tony’s preferred method was to distract him, because this whole ‘talking about feelings’ thing wasn’t something he thought he was very good at.

Since taking Loki out was out of the question, and the man was usually too weak to do so anyways, Tony’s favored method of cheering Loki up was to plunk down on the couch with him and watch a movie, or hand him a book, or something equally ridiculous, and sometimes it worked. The last time it happened Tony had sat Loki down on the couch while he threw the Indiana Jones trilogy on the big screen. It manages to hold Loki’s interest for a little while, they got about as far as The Last Crusade when Loki finally asked what a Nazi was anyways, and Tony found himself giving the man a lengthy lecture about the causes of the First World War, because one could not simply pass them off as “douchebags, now shut up and watch the movie,” when Loki was present and looking for a serious answer. Tony was just getting to Hitler when Loki passed out on his shoulder, snoring softly. That turned out to be one of the better days they’d had considering Loki’s piss poor mood at the start of it.

This was not to be one of those days.

Tony got an early call out for some Avengers business and he had to leave, leaving the sickly deity to his own devices for the day. JARVIS had been alerted to notify him if anything happened and he was on his way.

He didn’t think he had any reason to worry.  That morning when he found Loki the man had been pressed up against the window, looking out into the city below.  Tony couldn’t tell right then the sort of state Loki was in, with his back turned from him, nails scraping lightly against the glass. It just seemed to be the god’s usual malaise, when his medicine was making him sick. When he noticed a small tremble making its way along the god’s spine, he grabbed a blanket off of the couch and threw it over Loki’s shoulders.

Loki didn’t move, or otherwise acknowledge his presence. It took Tony physically drawing him away from the window and moving him towards the couch for him to really get a grasp on what was going on. The man’s eyes were glazed over, and there was a thin sheen of sweat covering his brow. When he moved he needed Tony’s support to get him across the room, and he didn’t even protest as he usually did when Tony covered him with the thick blanket.

Seeing Loki this way immediately set off an alarm in his head, but he knew he didn’t have time to investigate things further. So he tucked Loki in on the couch, and left an instruction for JARVIS to call him if anything happened.

He’d soon regret leaving Loki alone.

He was actually on his way back to the tower when he received an alert: Loki had apparently passed out in the living area of his penthouse. But, Thor was already on his way to take care of it, so Tony didn’t rush getting back to the tower.

That is until he received another alert; Thor was asking for his help. That request was more than enough to send Tony there in a rush. He landed on the balcony, not bothering to do much more than flip his faceplate up before he entered the tower.

What he found wasn’t quite the doomsday scenario he’d envisioned. Thor and Loki, were seated in the middle of the room, Loki tugged sort of half-heartedly against Thor’s chest, while the bigger man held both of Loki’s wrists. Loki was struggling, putting up as much of a fight as he could… This wasn’t saying much, considering that Tony could probably take him without the suit right now. The bottle of Loki’s medication was lying on the floor beside them, and it didn’t take Tony long at all to figure out what had happened. Loki was refusing to take his medication, and from the look of it, probably hadn’t been taking it regularly for the past few days. The doses for the rest of the week were still in there.

Tony sighed. It was like starting all over again.

Thor looked like he had never been so grateful to see the other man, as Tony came over and picked up the bottle.

“Loki, is there something you want to tell me?” He asked, shaking the bottle meaningfully. Loki hisses, honest to god hisses at him, and tries to pull away. With Thor’s arms around him he has nowhere to go, so Tony just waits until the fit is over before pressing again, gently.

“You can’t be skipping doses, Loki. We’ve been over this. Just because you don’t feel like they’re working doesn’t mean you can stop taking them.”

Loki continues to struggle, to pull away from Thor’s grasp, but the older god is immovable. Loki lets out a small gasp.

“It’s not working, Stark!” Loki protests, reverting back to the name he uses when he’s upset. They really were back at the beginning. Tony sighs.

“Sure it does. You have to give it a chance. If you quit taking your dose for a while, then you’re putting yourself back at the start.” He tries to explain patiently.

“You don’t believe me.” Loki accuses softly, weakly falling back against Thor, all the fight worn out of him. Thor releases one of Loki’s wrists, moving to gently cup his brother’s shoulder in a silent show of support.

“It’s not that.” Tony says, looking to Loki. “You haven’t been taking them all that long. Maybe you’re not quite getting the results you thought you’d see, but it’s the best we can do for now.”

Loki continues to lean against his Brother’s broad chest, panting softly as he fights to get his bearings.

“You don’t know what it’s like, Stark.” Loki whispers, a bead of sweat making its way down his forehead. “To have fallen so far…”

Loki’s body seizes abruptly, fighting the reactions of this fragile form as his body attacks itself, tearing him apart from the inside out. Thor braces him close, riding out the attack with him with practiced ease.

“You don’t… When you were attacked, you came out of it strong. Stronger, now that you have that…” Loki says, pointing at the blue light from under Tony’s armor.

“I feel weak… All the time.” Loki wheezes out, grinding his teeth together as he rides out the shivering fit. “My magic feels lost to me. I’ve never…” Loki gasps suddenly, clenching his eyes shut. “Oh by the nine, it hurts…” He just barely gets out.

Thor looks just about as helpless as Tony’s ever seen him. He can’t attack the enemy who’s hurting his brother; he can’t throw his hammer at it and make it go away. The monster is inside him, and Tony would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same helplessness Thor did.

“Let him go, Thor.” Tony says, as he gives the bottle a gentle shake.

Thor hesitates for a moment, but he finally releases Loki, giving the man room to scramble away from the two of them. He doesn’t get too far away; he can’t. He presses himself up against a nearby wall, curling in on himself as he tries to ride out the violent tremors wreaking havoc in his body.

Thor looks to Tony helplessly. “I don’t know how to help him.” He admits softly.

Tony bites his lip, glancing between the pills and the stubborn man shaking in front of them. He addresses Loki again, keeping his distance for the moment.

“Loki, this can’t be better than taking the pill. If you want, when Bruce gets back we can try and adjust the dose, or tweak the formula until we find something that doesn’t leave you feeling sick. But until then, this is the only thing that’s keeping you alive.”

“I don’t want it.” Loki says, his voice breaking on the words.

“Loki, please…” Thor pleads gently.

“I’d rather die than endure this.” Loki says miserably, as he buries his face in his hands. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“We are not going to just let you die.” Tony gets out, starting to get irritated, despite himself.

“Why not? Would it not be justice for my slights? Or is that it, you mean to torment me, to drag this out until the end?” Loki says, shivering. “Gods above, have mercy!”

It’s an odd time for this memory to come to the surface, standing there, listening to Loki beg for his death, watching the pained emotions flicker across Thor’s face.

He’d had a very short fling with a girl who was a nurse, once, and after a bad day she vented at Tony, (which Tony took benignly while diligently trying to work her bra off) that she wished “that families would learn to let their loved ones go.” She talked about how hard it was to watch a dying patient suffer, while the family insisted on keeping them on life support, stubbornly looking to hope when there was none. She thought it cruel, called it torture. Maybe that was what brought the memory to surface, Loki’s words spoken in pure misery bringing them to the surface.

Tony had to wonder; is that what he and Thor were doing here? Was Tony keeping him alive to assuage his own guilt for what happened at the cabin? Was Thor trying to keep him alive on the vain hope that he and his brother could still reconcile? How selfish is it to force life on this suffering man, in order to correct their own guilts and fears?

But, seeing the pained expression on Loki’s face tears at him. He just seems so young like this, so alone. He couldn’t let anyone die like this, not when he had the means to prevent it, not when he had the tool to fix it in his hand. All this needless suffering…

Something snaps in him, and Tony finds himself twisting open the cap before he can stop himself. He taps one of the pills into a gauntleted hand, and gives the bottle back to Thor.

“Hold onto that; you can kick my ass in a second.” Tony tells him, as he moves to Loki’s side.

The man tenses, but he takes the medicine from Tony, watching carefully.

Tony kneels down in front of Loki, waiting patiently for the tremors to calm. Loki tilts his face up, watching bemusedly as Tony uses the thumb of his free hand to brush an errant tear from Loki’s cheek.

Loki reaches a shaking hand up, placing it against Tony’s hand, fever bright eyes searching his, looking for something, some kind of sign, and Tony could see it, underneath the pain, the fear that lay beneath everything, his driving motivation. He was afraid. Afraid to die, or afraid to live like this, Tony couldn’t tell. All he knew was right then, at that moment, he wanted to fix it. He wanted to protect him, to save him from this fear, just so he’d never have to look this forlorn again.

Tony took the pill, placing it on his own tongue. Then, he tugged Loki in, pulling him into a wet, open kiss.

Loki’s eyes go wide in surprise, and he freezes up, as though unsure of what to do. Tony takes the initiative and pushes the pill into Loki’s mouth. Upon realizing what he’s doing, Loki begins to earnestly struggle, trying to pull away, but he’s weak, and Tony’s still in the suit. He doesn’t stand a chance.

Tony holds him in the kiss, even after he’s certain that Loki swallowed the pill. Loki’s struggles weaken, and then still entirely.

Then, he feels a long hand slide into his hair.

The next thing he knows, Loki’s reciprocating, sliding his tongue against Tony’s, tugging him as close as he can manage, limbs trembling with the effort. Tony fits easily against Loki, tugging the man in so he’s sitting astride Tony’s knees. Tony places a hand at the small of Loki’s back, supporting him.

When they finally have to break for air, Loki looks dizzy, watching him with widened eyes as he gasps for air.

“Tony…” He breathes out, looking to him, a question forming on his lips.

Tony shushes him. “I’m not letting you die.” He says firmly. Loki looks at him in amazement. “Not ever. And if I have to do that every time to get you to take your pills, then so be it.”

Loki bites his lower lip, fighting the minute tremors that shook him, nodding slowly. Tony sighs, feeling slightly elated at his victory.

Tony pulls away, sliding his arms around Loki, under his shoulders and knees, and picking him up into a bridal carry. Loki rests against him easily.

Tony intends to bring Loki back to his room and put him to bed, but he’s brought up short by Thor.

“I’ll take him.” Thor says darkly, as he slides the grip of his hammer into his belt. Tony wondered when the hell Thor had summoned Mjölnir, because he sure didn’t have it when Tony had first arrived. But he relents, sliding the frail man into Thor’s strong arms, who takes him easily.

Loki reaches a hand out to Tony, just missing his arm as Thor pulls him away.

As Thor begins to walk away, he can just barely make out Loki saying, in a firm voice: “Don’t hurt him.”

Thor doesn’t reply.

Tony flushes then, figuring the best thing to do right then was to lock himself up in his workshop for the next week. Maybe two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm unloading again. The absolute worst part of working in a hospital (or nursing home, in my case) is watching your patients give up, or relapse.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Loki make amends.

For the next few weeks, Loki seemed to be doing better, as far as Tony could tell for the few moments that he was allowed to see him. He was back on track with his medication, and even though he still had issues with it from time to time, it wasn’t so serious that it couldn’t be dealt with by other means. It seemed that Tony had been right; Loki’s body needed time to adjust to it, and after a while he didn’t quite feel so sick taking it. With his strength slowly returning, and his humor and wit along with it, a lot of the stress they’d all been living under finally began to ease.

Tony had been working very diligently in his workshop, spending even more time there and trying his damnedest to avoid Thor whenever possible. Ever since the “incident” the man had been downright scary. He made it a point to sit between Tony and Loki when he had to endure the mortals company, and tugging Loki from the man’s side and into another room wherever he didn’t have to, much to his brother’s squawking dismay. Every so often Thor would nail him with a look that said he knew. He just knew. It didn’t help the situation at all that Loki seemed to enjoy Tony’s company, stealing away from his over-protective sibling to be at Tony’s side wherever he could. And Tony allowed it, growing used to having the man’s shadow hovering nearby.

Tony would have found this all quite hilarious, normally. It was pretty obvious the only thing keeping him from being crushed by Mjölnir was the fact that Tony’s lab was currently the only manufacturer of the medication that Loki needed to survive. Which again, Tony would have found all very humorous, if it didn’t remind him of his own dark secret.

Tony struggled to shake off the memory, thinking back to the day when he’d pressed his advantage, when Loki wasn’t strong enough to resist. He pauses; hand hovering over his toolbox as he thought over what he did, wondering not for the first time how he was supposed to live with himself, and the knowledge of it.

When, underneath one of his tools, a bright green spider, about the size of his hand, comes crawling out. Tony gives a most unmanly screech, jumping away as the creature looks to him curiously. It was just so weird looking, with fangs, actual _fangs_ , that seemed to hang out from its mouth several inches.

_How could it eat??_

Tony’s brought up short by a pair of arms, getting tugged into a slender chest, and he only has to tilt his head back to confirm the identity of his captor.

“Well, you’re certainly feeling better.” Tony says, getting a little smirk from Loki in return. “Especially if you’re using magic like that.”

“It’s only an illusion, the best I can do, for now.” He says, and Tony can’t help but feel that had been spoken a bit too ominously for his tastes. “And yes, much better.” Loki agrees, shifting his arms around Tony’s middle. Tony shifts a bit awkwardly in the circle Loki’s arms made around him.

“Uh… This a special occasion or…?”

Suddenly, Loki leans in and plants a biting kiss against the back of Tony’s neck. Tony lets out a yelp, and tries to pull away, to no avail.

“What are you doing?” He asks, trying to nudge Loki away. But Loki doesn’t let go, and Tony finds himself quite trapped.

“Thor’s gone for the weekend.” Loki says, restating facts that Tony already knew. “We have the place all to ourselves.” Tony shivers then, as Loki moves in closer, whispering in Tony’s ear.

“I thought we could find some way to entertain ourselves.” Loki practically purrs, his hand moving to gently pry up Tony’s shirt.

Tony lets out another yelp, jumping away again. This time Loki lets him go, a frown marring his pretty face. Tony sighs, looking to the other man.

“Look… Sorry, no offense. I just, this is great and all, but you really don’t want to take all this new energy out on me.” Tony says, watching as Loki raises an eyebrow at him.

“So, thanks for the offer, but I can’t.”

“But… a few weeks ago…” Loki starts, puzzled.

“Yeah, the kiss.” Tony says, looking to him. “Look, I just wanted you to take your medication, it didn’t mean anything.”

“Only, that’s not true.” Loki says, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares at Tony. Tony gets an uneasy feeling, as though the god were trying to read him, and it makes him wary.

“I don’t…”

“Something happened at the cabin?” Loki infers, looking to Tony. “That’s the reason you don’t want to pursue this?

Tony’s heart begins to beat rabidly, thinking back to that day. Loki’s lips wrapped around his fingers, pale thighs hitched up around Tony’s waist. The tight feel of him, as Tony entered him, the look on his face…

Loki shifts so that he’s sitting on the desk, face pursed together as he concentrated on the few memories he had, and Tony can feel panic bubbling up inside of him.

“Loki…”

“My memories are still foggy from that time.” Loki confesses, looking to Tony a bit helplessly. “It’s… Hard to discern. Hard to sense what’s real and what isn’t…”

“Loki, we had sex.” Tony says, finally.

Loki’s mouth drops, not for long, but for a second he looks quite startled, and Tony can’t even get any satisfaction at having gotten that look out of him.

“Oh.” Loki says, taken off of his guard. “So that wasn’t a dream…”

“Yeah.” Tony says, glancing away, suddenly finding it really difficult to look at the man. “I was angry, and I took it out on you. I-“

“Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say.” Loki says, and he actually looks angry. Tony swallows what he was going to say, because he has every right to be upset with him right then. Loki is silent for a moment, and Tony bites his lip, fearing what Loki’s going to say.

“Do… Do you have nothing else to say?” Loki asks, chin in hand as he looks to Tony. Tony sighs.

“Other than no amount of apologies would ever make up for what I did. I took advantage of you and I….”

“I told you not to say that.” Loki says, and suddenly the other man’s hand is covering his mouth. Tony jumps in surprise again, swearing because Loki crossed the room in nothing flat and Jesus that was terrifying.

Loki gives him another glare, flexing his fingers over Tony’s mouth. “I’m no victim, whatever you’re thinking.”

Loki slowly pulls away, looking Tony over. Tony swallows slowly, looking to the other man.

“What do you mean?”

Loki glances to Tony, giving a look.

“It’s just that… Ever since that time in the cabin, after I woke up I dismissed it as a dream, because I thought you wouldn’t ever touch me that way.” He tries to explain. He pauses, searching for the words as Tony watches him intently.

“I let it go because I didn’t want my heart to…” Loki pauses, closing his eyes and placing a hand over the wildly beating organ. Loki begins swaying softly, and Tony wants then to reach out and grab him out of worry that the god was about fall to his knees.

“But ever since we came back, you’ve been so… Gentle. Far more than I deserved. I was so ill, Stark, so weak, I just wanted to die. But having you beside me… When we kissed…” Loki pauses again, brushing a hand to his own lips.

“I began to hope… And I decided then that I wanted to live.” He confesses, and now Tony cringes, because he really has managed to fuck things up this time. More so than usual, and this man’s happiness and health were hanging in the balance all over the stupid, selfish thing he’d done. Just watching the god try to work things out was painful.

“Loki, I think you need to sit down.” Tony says, and Loki sees the work bench sitting off to the side, and he gratefully collapses on top of it.

Loki takes a moment to try and steady his panting breaths, tries to shake some sense back into himself. Tony begins to move closer to the god, slowly, not wanting to spook him. But far from it, when Tony is within arm’s length, Loki reaches out for him, grabbing his shirt and tugging the other man in. Surprised, Tony lets him, until he’s close enough to rest his head against Tony’s middle.

“I should be angry.” Loki mumbles, his face buried in Tony’s side. “I should be livid. And yet as I’m sitting here, I cannot be angry. I can’t, because I wanted it, Tony. I’ve wanted you. By the nine, Stark, I think I love you despite this.” Loki says quietly, his arms still wrapped around Tony’s middle. Tony exhales slowly, reaching carefully to thread his fingers through Loki’s raven dark hair. Loki seems to lean into the gentle touch, calming considerably.

Tony could hardly believe all that he was hearing.

“Would you let me have another chance at it?” He asks suddenly, looking to Loki. “I mean, I know I don’t deserve it, but… I’m taking a trip out to California next month. There’s so much to do there. We could try this again.”

Tony reaches out to him gently tipping the man’s chin up. “What do you think?”

Loki seems to study him for a moment, swallowing the growing lump in his throat. “I’ve never been…”

“All the more reason we should do it! Come on, Loki.” Tony pleads. “Give me a chance to do this the right way.” He doesn’t like to be begging like that, but from the small smile that slowly crosses Loki’s face he knows that he’s won.

“Alright.” Loki says carefully. “Why not? I’ll give you another chance to romance me. You screwed it up the first time.” He teases.

It’s so, so much more than he could ever ask for. Giving a soft sigh of relief, Tony moves to sit beside him, brushing his fingers soothingly over Loki’s cheek.

“May I kiss you?” he asks, because the last thing Tony wants to do, now that he has a second chance is to step over anymore boundaries.

Loki nods, leaning in close and Tony pulls him in the rest of the way, gently guiding him. Loki’s hands find his shoulders, sliding up and around to meet behind Tony’s neck, fingers delicately lacing together. Tony lets his hands support the other man, gently cradling Loki’s back. He brushes a soft, feather-light kiss to Loki’s lips first, deepening it when Loki opens his mouth to accept it. Their teeth click against each other as tongues hesitantly meet.

Loki closes his eyes, trusting Tony entirely to take control and keep him safe.

And Tony does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry this one came out so late. I actually, very recently, had a relative very close to me become very sick and end up in the hospital. He's been in a coma since Saturday. So this fic ended up towards the end, hitting very close to home, and it was very hard for me to find the motivation to work on it. This weekend I had the thought that, even though this isn't the ending I planned for this fic, (I had wanted something sadder,) I figured I better give them a happier one, because for myself, I still don't know.
> 
> I guess that's a little superstitious on my part, but hey. Anyways, it's finished, here's to happier projects from now on. :)
> 
> Find me at one of my other personal sites:
> 
> a-dangerous-sociopath.tumblr.com
> 
> hellscomingwithme.deviantart.com


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